Dawn of the Earth
by billy morph
Summary: AU. The world ended, no one knows why and it doesn't really matter anyway to the hundred or so bird kids left behind, the humans are gone and they are free. But life is never perfect and what will happen when the humans reemerge ten long years later?
1. The End

**Authors Note: Okay, this is an idea that's been kicking around my head for a while and I thought I'd share it. Please note that the Flock are not in this story yet and probably won't be and I started writing it before the third book. Naturally this means its all AU. Also changes in voice are marked.**

**Winged kids, Erasers and White Coats are property of James Patterson. My characters and my world is my own.**

**Dawn of the Earth**

The End - Dee

At ten in the morning the world ended.

I knew there was something strange about that day from the beginning. The lack of the Eraser running his gun barrel down the bars of our cages to wake us up was a definite hint. I woke slowly for probably the first time in my life; for once undisturbed by the desperate wailing of an Experiment, one of my friends, being dragged away for 'tests'. The sun shone softly through a tiny window near the ceiling, dancing across my eyes and gently rousing me.

I cracked open an eye and looked around me, 'Maybe today I will wake up outside the lab'. Not a chance; stupid optimism, same old lab, same old nightmare. There were twenty cages rammed up against the wall each containing an extremely grumpy mutant bird kid. That included me by the way. As well as the cage room there were also experimentation rooms. Which I never want to talk about again, so don't ask. There might have been other rooms with cages but I don't know.

I sat up, remembering in time to bow my head to avoid hitting my head on the roof of my cage. Everyone was up already, straining to hear something in the distance. The break room TV I think, but I had never heard it that loud before. I glanced around the lab and saw that everyone was sitting in absolute silence, no one was talking and no one was moving. There wasn't even the gentle tap of passed messages. It was eerie. I tried to listen to what was being said on the TV but was I too far away from the door, which admittedly was usually a blessing.

"What's going on," I tapped across to my neighbour, fourteen year old Jasmine. In the silence it reverberated across the room cutting through the silence like carrion call. Nineteen pairs of eyes glared at me, communicating a silent 'sh!' Sometimes I hate being the youngest; everyone either seems to expect you to know everything, that or know nothing as you're just the silly little girl with downy feathers, which is just as bad.

"The White Coats are stirred up about something," she tapped back. "Now shush Dat's trying to listen."

I shut up and watched Dat who was sitting with his ear pressed against the wall. It was boring; I hate sitting still, and it could go on for hours. I started to tap another message.

Suddenly Dat pulled away from the wall as if it had been electrified. Trust me I know what that looks like. "They're coming." he announced talking normally, for some reason unafraid of being punished. The door banged open and five White Coats came in wheeling trolleys, enough for all of us I noticed.

"…so this is it," one said looking stunned; actually most of them looked stunned. "I'm never going to see them again am I?"

"Pull yourself together, Conner," barked a White Coat that didn't share that same wild-eyed look of disbelief as the others. "We have a job to do."

"It's alright for you," the one called Conner cried back hysterically. "You don't have a family. My son's only four years old for Gods' sake!" Their leader grabbed him and shook him until he the panic faded from his eyes.

"Conner," he said gently. "There is a bunker next to the town; I promise you that they will survive. We will survive."

Conner looked back at him a said weakly. "Promise?"

"Promise. Now let's get these guys out of here." The White Coats rounded on us; some kids quailed back but most just met their panicked eyes, regarding them coldly. They lifted up the cages and placed them roughly on the trolleys. The lead White Coat bent down over Dat's cage and placed something roughly into it.

"Don't lose it." He ordered with harshly, though there was a slight quaver in his voice. The White Coat Conner picked up my cage and looked at me distantly.

"My son's about your age." He said softly, staring at me at me where I couched in my cage looking up in confusion. He went too put me on his trolley but found it was full; he walked over to another and whispered to me. "Just promise me one thing." I didn't say anything but he continued. "Survive." He plunked me down next to Dat who was looking at the object in his cage in disbelief.

"What's that?" I asked, apparently the rules about not talking and not being talked too weren't important any more. "And what's going on."

"They say the world is ending." He murmured still staring at the object. Then he added reverently. "And this is a book." I looked at it in disbelief, looked at the bright cover and golden letters 'Encarta'; I didn't know what to make of it. Books were something the White Coats had; something to jot down notes on how weird we are. They were objects of fear and superstition, not something to give out to helpless mutants.

The White Coats wheeled us out into a huge room known formally as The Atrium or to everyone else as The Bird Cage. It was the one place we were given room to fly; naturally it was my favourite place. The walls were adorned with perches; I spotted the one I had first flown off of. The usual wooden steps had been rammed up against the wall, but something else caught my eye.

It was filled with bird kids.

There must have been a hundred of them. More people than I had ever seen in my life, all milling around next to their miraculously open cages and talking in small groups glancing around suspiciously at the watching White Coats and their Eraser guards.

"Those the last ones?" a White Coat with a clipboard yelled across the room.

"Yep!" The guy in charge of our group called back. "This is all of them."

"Well get them out of those cages we've only got four minutes." He shouted back glancing at his wristwatch. Our White Coat fumbled with the latches on our cages and ushered us out.

I looked around in wonder at the multitudes of bird kids, some standing holding their wings out, some in, some sitting down and other hunched into little feathery balls. It was a cacophony of familiar faces and strangers with unusual wings and strange colours ranging from the standard brown to whites and blacks and even a sky blue. I opened my own wings which were still a soft downy grey; I could feel the anticipation, the excitement, the confusion sweeping though the crowd as new people met new people; all asking the same question.

I glanced around wondering if we were allowed to fly; it was The Bird Cage after all. I could feel the energy of the crowd flowing through me and I was itching to get rid of it. I looked up and gasped. The glass ceiling that let you have a painful glimpse of the world outside was gone and I could see the sky in all its glory. It was bluer than I expected it to be; now that I was seeing it without its usual filter of glass. It was crisscrossed with fine white lines that might have been clouds but not like any clouds that I had ever seen.

"Look!" I cried pointing up at the missing roof. A slow silence spread across the crowd as one by one we craned our heads back and stared at the gap, which should have been the final wall in our prison in disbelief.

"Children," a White Coats voice rang out though the silence, tinny and artificial through the megaphone. I looked round at him; I had never been called a child before, just experiment D148. "You are free." He continued occasionally stumbling over words, as if he had written the speech a long time ago and didn't have time to relearn it. "The world is lost; Even now it ends around us. You have but one job; to live, to thrive, but do not forget the old world. We have put so much into your existence. You're like children to us." A hundred and twenty pairs of eyes regarded him suspiciously, as he calmly walked out. Well I didn't, I looked at him with a mixture of hope and excitement hardly daring to believe what he had said. Was I really free? Free to leave? Free to live? Free to fly?

I didn't think about it, just leapt up and pushed down with my wings and spiralled gently up to the edge of the roof ignoring Dat's desperate cry of "Dee, No!"

I reached the top of the building and kept rising, looking out over a vast forest, feeling the wind and smelling the free air for the first time in my life. I felt a tear of joy form in my eye, it was so beautiful. Below me others brave enough, or stupid enough, also took wing and rose to up join me circling in the pure sky. Then as if by some unseen signal everyone broke, launching into the air in a flurry of feathers and wings and streaming out of the hole in the roof looks of wonder on their faces.

Suddenly there was a huge flash on the horizon ten times brighter than the sun, I shielded my face with my wing and almost fell onto someone. Everyone fluttered around in confusion for a moment but the light didn't come again and no one was hurt. I realised that now I was free I didn't know what to do; we would starve out here with no one to feed us. We were probably all thinking along these lines but then Dat took the reins and cried out across the confused flock.

"Come on; let's get as far away from here as possible. I don't know about you but I'm sick of this place!" He started flying off with a wild laugh heading north, everyone followed without question. Another flash lit up the sky but we didn't pay attention to it, we were free nothing could stop us now.

The flashes kept happening all day and late into the night, but none were near us. Later I learnt that those flashes were atomic bombs. Thousands fell that day. I believe you humans called it

The Armageddon.


	2. Survivor

Authors note: Okay this is the introduction of a new character and I will have a chapter break and a change of font for a POV switch to make it clear. Also thanks for the great response

Survivor - Michael

By ten o'clock I knew something was very wrong. The whole town was holding its breath. Entire families were clustered around their TV's, all of them hanging on every word of the news. Praying that someone; anyone would pull the iron out of the fire, that just one person would come to their senses and stop the madness.

No one did.

I don't remember much about that day, I was only four. It's just a confused jumble of memories and fragmented images. I do remember that the TV said something that my mum didn't like. She shouted for a few moments then started to rush around the house like a hurricane, grabbing clothes food and photographs. Then I was hustled out of the door and strapped into the car before we started driving at breakneck speed to The Bunker.

I don't know how we got in, there must have been hundreds clamouring at the gates, begging for a chance to live. I think mum had a pass but I've never seen it; guess it's not important anymore. We watched the doors close, six foot of lead that wouldn't open for a decade. They inched down, slowly closing on a world that we would never see again. A huge flash lit up the sky, the brilliant light turning everything white, the begging crowd at the gates looked briefly like ghosts. The last thing I remember of the outside world is a flock of birds taking to the sky in fright, high above the trees that would be long dead by the time we finally remerged.

The doors slammed shut. The crowd behind me was silent, unable to grasp what had just happened, something that should have never happened. I think I broke the silence first.

"Mummy," I asked. "Where's Daddy."

"I don't know." She replied. "But he's safe. I know he's safe." No one contradicted her; we all wanted to believe it.


	3. Brave New World

Brave New World - Dee

Ten years to the day I woke with a start to the sound of a baby wailing, which was pretty normal. My little sister by adoption, Florence, is an early riser, so everyone else in the house is too. Thank heavens we have thick wall or the whole village would get its early morning wake up call. I lay back down and tried to get back to sleep, something I'm not very good at. I could see the pale blue sky through my window and the sun was shinning brightly low in the sky. Someone flew past with a stifled whoop of joy; far too fast for me too see who they were, they weren't supposed to be flying that fast close to the village anyway.

Right that settled it, there was far too much to do today, flying included. I got up pulling on a soft leather pair of trousers and a sleeveless shirt, minus the back of course, to give my wings room to breathe. I slipped into the main room where Jasmine was sitting cross legged next to the stove, cradling Flo, who after all that fuss had gone back to sleep.

Jasmine is basically my adopted mother. After we were set free she, shall we say, took me under her wing, and we have never seen any reason to stop, even with her marriage and Flo's hatching, though both are a bit of a trial. She's grown up a lot over the years but I still think of her as the scruffy teenager I met a long time.

"Morning Jaz," I said brightly sitting down next to her. "What's for breakfast?"

"Hey Dee," She answered, seating Flo by the table and taking a dozen eggs from the ice box, which was literally a box, with ice. "You're up early."

"How could I not be with my little feathery alarm clock?" I answered sarcastically, pulling up a chair next to Flo who had gone back to sleep, little devil. "Zap up yet?"

"Not yet." She cracked open the eggs dropping them onto the pane of blast glass that made up our stove. She stared at it intently for a moment then it started glowing a cherry red.

Weird? Yes. Most of us can do something like that, with varying degrees of skill. Heating stuff is easiest, then moving objects, which is about as far as I can go. Others can do more; a lot more.

The door to the main bedroom banged open and Zap came in buttoning up his shirt haphazardly. Zap, in case you hadn't guessed is Jaz's husband and the local crackpot inventor. He gets his name from his yellow blond hair, which he is always absentmindedly brushing back into spikes.

"Jasmine, where're my boots?" he yelled across the room. "The lads are waiting for me at the forge." Jasmine rolled her eyes and Flo stirred slightly, thankfully she didn't wake up. Don't get me wrong I love Flo, she's cute in a downy sort of way, but somehow she doesn't seem to even need to breathe when she starts screaming. The last year's been a constant game of don't wake the baby.

"There on the balcony where they always are," Jasmine answered doing her best to sound exasperated but betrayed by the smile playing around her lips. Zap's quirks were one of the many reasons she had fallen in love with him.

"Right, thanks." He headed for the door.

"Breakfast?" Jasmine suggested with the hint of laughter in her voice.

"Good idea," Zap answered brightly, pin wheeling on one foot by the door walking over and sat down heavily next to me. I cradled my head in my hands, sometimes I wonder if Zap just acts crazy to be funny. Other times I am convinced that he really is, just that crazy.

"Morning Dee," he said, seeing me probably for the first time.

"Morning Zap," I answered halfway between a smile and a sigh. "Doing anything interesting today?" Asking Zap if he's doing anything interesting is just asking for trouble, he finds everything interesting. Just another of the reasons we all like him so much.

"Loads," he responded with his usual unstoppable enthusiasm. "We've just finished casting all the letters for the press and I'm working on my special design for crossbow bolts."

"Really?" I asked excitedly, hunting is one of my three favourite things, after flying of course.

"Yeah. I've replaced the fletching with leather, it makes it last much better."

I snorted in disbelief. "You can't use leather. What's wrong with feathers?" There's an element of truth to the leather issue; cows had taken a big hit during the first long winter.

"Feathers tend to disintegrate at high speeds." He replied a little sheepishly.

"Yours might."

"You two about done?" Jasmine asked sarcastically.

"Depends, is breakfast ready?" I inquired grinning broadly; Jaz is always so serious and so is Zap if you get him on the subject of work.

"Is now." She answered, flipping some bread and cheese onto wooden plates and gesturing the eggs off the stove, portioning off some for Flo. There's probably something morally wrong about being half bird and eating eggs. I don't care though, so we just tucked in. I tried to toast my bread and watched in dismay as it immediately blackened and started to smoke. I don't really have the patience for cooking. Too much heat. Too fast.

"Need more lessons?" suggested Jasmine; I stuck my tongue out at her, like I needed more of those. Being taught Telekinesis is like trying to carry water in a thimble. Sometimes I envy the few that do it instinctively, and then I remember that then I'd have to teach the annoying kids. Maybe I'll just stick to archery.

"I'll throw it to the birds shall I?" I asked and threw it, Frisbee-like towards the window where it settled gently on the sill. Immediately one of the hundreds of sparrows that swarmed around the village landed next to it and started pecking, issuing a shrill trill to announce it was his.

It's funny but you never think of birds surviving a nuclear holocaust, but they did, just like us. I finished breakfast adding a couple of apples to make up for the lost bread, then brushed the crumbs through a hole in the floor with a negligent wave of my hand.

I went over to the door and announced. "I'm going out." I picked up my quiver and strapped it to my leg.

"Out anywhere in particular, or just out?" Jasmine inquired with a touch of irony, as I hooked my crossbow to my back. No one goes out without a weapon since... well, since a long time ago.

"Just out," I answered opening the door and stepping out into the bright sun, brighter than when I first saw it. That's probably something to do with the bombs. There are advantages to having a mum who's only just out of her teens. Then again the average age in the village is only eighteen.

"Remember to have lunch." She called after me and I rolled my eyes, I wasn't likely to forget. I looked out over the village, which isn't like any human town i.e. not dead and empty. For a start its thirty feet off the ground with each house built around a central tree, and with the forest was in full leaf it was quite beautiful. Sometimes it amazes me just how green the world is, by the end of that first long winter I didn't think I would ever see a leaf again. But, despite humanities best efforts to screw it up, life goes on.

Actually quite a lot survived the nuclear winter. The trees just went into hibernation as well as some of the small animals; we lost most of the small plants but they're starting to come back again. None of the large predators survived save a few wolves, actually the majority of the mammals died in the first few months, including any humans that lived past that first day. The birds were fine though, they just flew to where there was still food and so did we. We just built fires and picked clean the land for around fifty miles. Lets just say thank heavens for supermarkets and canned beans.

I walked to the edge of the balcony that surrounds our house and opened my wings wide, feeling the early morning breeze flowing through my feathers. Thirteen feet across and pure white, my wings are kind of like a swan's, of course I've only ever seen one swan so I guess I'm not really in a position to comment.

I took a step back and leapt forwards, raising my wings then bringing them down hard, catching the wind like sails and let out a barely stifled whoop of joy. I rose fast, tucking in my wings briefly to get through the canopy then reopening them to catch the bright sun on my feathers.

Even this early there were people out and about, flying to work or going to gather stuff from the forest. In the distance I saw one of the many patrols flying around the village, we haven't been attacked in years but I guess Dat can't think of a better use for all the young headstrong males; giving them weapons might have been a mistake though. I flew over to join them as they flapped slowly over the canopy arguing about whether the youngest 'Chi' could hit a knot on a tree. I told you it was a bad idea to give them crossbows. Robin their leader spotted me first.

"Hey Dee!" he called across the tree tops, showing that they were at least being a little observant. "Can you settle an argument for us?"

"Sure," I answered swooping into formation with them, mirroring the sweep and trim of their wings.

"You reckon Chi can hit that knot?" he asked pointing at a spot on a tree fifty yards away. "The twins won't make a decision." He gestured at the identical twins Elle and Ella, no one can tell them apart so they always get lumped together on duties. If you're wondering why I didn't have a job to do, well it was my day off. Also they'd need to catch me first.

"Not a chance." I said confidently, none but an expert Psychic could make that shot; picking up a pencil is one thing, hurling a crossbow bolt is another.

"Can too." Chi whined grabbing his crossbow and wrenching back on the string with both hands and slipping it over the catch then fitting a bolt into the groove. He pushed the stock against his shoulder and held his wings rigid for a moment then fired. The bolt screamed into the forest and hammered into a tree trunk; not even the right tree.

"It shouldn't buzz like that." I stated casually, knowing this usually drives everyone up the wall. "You didn't have your feather attached properly." He glowered at me; it's something I've learnt over the years, people really hate being told what to do by someone younger than them; especially if you happen to be the youngest. And with that in mind you can tell I annoy a lot of people.

"So when are you getting off?" I asked Robin, diverting my attention away from antagonising Chi, fun as it may be.

"Soon as the next shmucks get here," he answered a touch annoyed, glancing around the horizon. "Which they should have five minutes ago." I caught a glimmer of movement below us and my gaze locked onto the four shapes hiding in the branches below us, one motioned me to stay quiet. We flew on until we were directly over the kids hiding in the branches.

Suddenly they leapt into the sky and yelled at the top of their lungs. The twins screamed in shock and Chi let out a frightened cry.

"Surprised?" Mica asked, rising fast on a thermal with a smug grin on her face.

"Not really," Robin replied, still gasping for breath. Liar. "You're our replacements I take it."

"Yep," she said gesturing over her black wings to the three kids hovering behind her. "Three hours of utter boredom. So we decided to start with a laugh."

"Glad to be of assistance," Robin shot back. "Now if you excuse me I've got to go pick up my heart. I think I dropped it back there."

"You're excused." She said with a peal of laughter, then she and her patrol flew off, beginning their long vigil around the village.

"I'm going to have to get her for that." He muttered when she was out of ear shot, then her shook his head. "Hey Dee, we're going to play some Flyball want to come."

"Well," I pretended to think about it for a moment raising my wings up as high as they would go, then I brought them down hard sending me rocketing forwards and yelled over my shoulder, "sure, race you!"

Robin swore then accelerated towards me the others in tow. Five shapes streaking across the sky.


	4. A New Life

A New Life - Michael

You know it's strange but I don't think anyone ever designed fallout shelters to be lived in. Sure they have enough food and water for fifteen years and enough beds for anyone that should have been there, forty seven as it turned out, but I don't think anyone ever expected to use them. They were just, there, a little 'just in case'. And after a few months everyone was a little stir crazy, some more than others. Some couldn't take the pressure of a decade with the same four walls, the same faces, same bleak future. They. Well, they went to find out what happened to everyone else.

I don't remember the initial hopelessness, as I said I was four. By the time I had grown up enough to be aware of the misery surrounding me I didn't notice it any more, like you don't notice you're wearing a watch. Even so it was there, ever present and I think if it hadn't been for the children our own little light of humanity would have winked out.

As I said the children saved us. Little bundles of hope that showed that humanity could survive, that maybe there was still a little hope; though in the end there were only ten, including myself. Most of us couldn't contemplate bringing a child into a world where their only future would be blank concrete walls and an early death. The children weren't the solution to everything though, we had to find something to do to occupy the endless years. We had so many bad poems most people wanted to scream. Then they wrote poems about that. Some wrote stories about the world outside, as it was and how they thought it would be, but when they finished, read over their work with tears in their eyes they simply sighed and tore it up throwing the remains away to be recycled. Others just planned for the future, and then planned again, and again.

I'm not annoyingly creative though, so by my tenth birthday I had read most of the books in our meagre library and had aspirations to be a doctor, like my long dead father. By the time I was twelve I was helping Dr. Mazerer with some of the injuries and by the time I was fourteen I was itching to get out. I remember helping with some of the men in drilling a tiny hole out of the bunker so we could stick a radio antenna into the outside world. And I remember the disappointment that everyone felt when we didn't get a reply.

We were all desperate to see the world outside, our old houses, what was left of our town, maybe we still thought their might still be something out there for us. Naturally there was an expedition planned for the moment that the time seal on the door ended; allegedly to look for supplies but everyone knew it was an excuse to go outside. I knew, and even so I was first on the list of volunteers and didn't think much about what going out into a blasted nuclear wasteland might entail.

Going outside meant opening The Door - actually a set of three made of solid lead, but first we had to get suited up. There were enough radiation suits in the bunker for everyone though I had to roll the legs and sleeves up and what that did to its ability to protect me I have no idea. It was only flimsy plastic anyway so what it actually did to protect me was debateable. There was also a gas mask to filter out any radioactive dust, that didn't fit very well either but I didn't care, and didn't let my mum see me before I left.

Uncle Richard, who's not actually my uncle, it's just that everyone calls him that, swiped his key card through a lock next to the first door and it began to slowly rise into the ceiling. No one spoke, we were all too tense, we all knew what would be out there but we were hoping, just hoping that maybe there was still life out their. Maybe we'd even find a new civilisation. The second door began to open with a squeak of old gears as the first shut behind us. We'd never been able to open these doors before; a time delay seal you see. It would be ironic if we couldn't get out because the doors were stuck.

"Ready?" Uncle Richard asked as the second door boomed shut. No one said a word but he swiped his card through the final lock anyway.

The door inched up, letting a painful shaft of life through the gap. I winced and covered my eyes, it might just have been me but it seemed brighter than I remembered it, maybe it was just not seeing natural light for a decade. There was a bang as the door came to rest and I looked out on the world for the first time since I was four.

The first thing that struck me was how green the world looked, there were trees in the distance, closer than I remembered, and even the asphalt in front of was cracked with shoots of green. There was no dust and the only desolation we could see were the wrecks of decomposing cars in front of us, there weren't even any bodies. The wind played around us, bringing the sound of bird song to us, I didn't even realise what it was for a moment, I hadn't heard it for so long.

"I thought it was all supposed to be dead," Chuck, a big ex-military guy, whispered.

"Maybe we got lucky," Uncle Richard said simply, pulling out a Geiger-counter which immediately started screaming. I winced, that could not be healthy.

"Or maybe not," he completed. "Okay guys, let's move out."

We set off. Off to face our broken world.


	5. Flyball

Flyball - Dee

Robin flared his wings as he landed on the roof and I almost crashed into him, throwing myself to one side at the last second and skittering to a stop on the tiles.

"Damn it," I muttered, folded my wings.

"Sorry Dee," Robin said nonchalantly, helping me up. "Looks like I win again."

"Oh come on," I said defensively, brushing myself off, I swear these old human houses are dust magnets. "You've got at least three years and four foot of wing on me."

"And you had the head start," he pointed out. I declined to mention everyone being faster than me was the reason I always try and get a head start. Fair doesn't figure when you're the youngest.

"Yeah, well…" I began, trying to think of a snappy response and failing.

"Heads up!" someone yelled and I caught a glimpse of three guys flying in a tight V over the roof tops, straight towards us. I threw myself to one side, again, as they rushed over us, the slipstream slamming me into the roof and then sending me plummeting over the edge. Serves me right for landing right in the middle of the Flyball pitch I suppose. I flared my wings and landed lightly in a long dead front garden and looked up angrily to try and find the perpetrators. But they were long gone over the rooftops; though I did see Elle and Ella land in perfect symmetry above me.

I calmed myself down for a moment and concentrated on the ground beneath me, I'd been practicing this trick so I really didn't want it to go wrong and blow up in my face. And with telekinesis that can happen literally. I kicked of hard from the ground, simultaneously slamming down with my power and catapulting myself into the air, even fitting in a flip before landing lightly back on the roof next to Ella.

"Sorry about that Dee," Chris said, making me jump, I hadn't seen him arrive. "I was reffing and I really should have spotted you guys."

"No harm no fowl," I said nonchalantly, trying to act like I hadn't almost just jumped out of my skin. "Care if we join in?"

"Sure just give the guys a few minutes finish this round."

Great, that gives me time to tell you just what Flyball is.

At its very basic level Flyball is what you get when you have a large number of bored adolescents who can coincidently fly. It can be any size from two people to one memorable occasion when we had fifty five a side, and there is only one goal; get the ball through your opponents hoop before they get it through yours. The ball itself is similar to a tennis ball but softer, bald and made by one of the powerfully physic girls out of I don't know what.

Next we move onto the rules, first no PK stuff, purely your own skills. Second, you can't touch the ball; you have to catch it in the 'stick' which is like a lacrosse stick but with half the handle missing and mass produced by Zap. Finally, no hitting anyone. Period. Other than that anything goes, you can go anywhere you want as fast as you want and that brings me neatly onto the pitch.

The pitch in question is a nearby human town, though it's long dead, and believe me the towns look dead. It's kind of ironic that the rest of the world is doing okay after what humanity did to it but their own creations couldn't last. If you're wondering why we use it, well it's far more interesting to pull a five g-turn through a back alley while going a hundred plus than anywhere else.

Man, I would have been so grounded when I did that trick if Jaz hadn't been on my team at time. The two hoops are about ten foot across and mounted at opposite ends of this town, about a kilometre from each other and the game's about to start so I should really get back to that.

"Ready guys?" cried Robin who was being the captain this match. We cheered, waving our sticks in the air and in the distance I could see the other team doing the same.

"Right on three!" he held up one finger and paused, waiting for the oppositions' captain to do the same. Shouting over that kind of distance is useless.

"One!" We all tensed waiting for that first mad dash to get the ball.

"Two!" I spread my wings wide feeling for a friendly current and hunkered down to get more spring.

"Three," he roared pushing off with a mighty sweep of his wings, the rest of us hot on his heels.

Ahead of me I saw the ball, merely a tiny grey dot at this distance, shoot into the sky, the two kids in the centre locked in a psychic battle to move the ball closer to their team. The toss up is the only part where PK's allowed, did I forget to mention that, so after the ball hits the stick, that's it. I caught Robin's slipstream and catapulted myself forwards speeding past him, leading in the rush to get to the ball.

There was a sudden blast of wind as Robin pulled past me followed closely by Chi, who'd finally arrived moments before the game begun.

"Not this time Dee!" Robin called over his shoulder, I bit back a swear word, older people go faster and it really annoys me. The ball was a hundred yards ahead of us and the other team was nowhere near, it was going to be too easy, but it wouldn't be me scoring.

Yeah right like I was going to let that happen.

I pumped my wings harder ignoring the ache in my joints as I pushed them far too hard, Robin and Chi were flying practically wing to wing, closing on the immobile ball which was barely wobbling. Some epic psychic battle that was turning out to be, usually you have to chase after it and that's far more fun than netting a stationary ball.

I caught up with Robin and Chi, briefly rested in the sweet spot just behind their wings, and FYI, it's called the sweet spot because that's where you get the best speeds from slingshoting off their slipstream. I pushed down hard, catching the disturbed air in my wings and shot forwards, wrenching my wings back up to avoid cuffing the boys on the back of the head. The ball was right in front of me, vibrating slightly and I brought the stick round to scoop it in the net but suddenly it shot away, angling steeply down towards the waiting opposition.

That time I did swear, folding in my wings and giving chase, completely forgetting the trouble I was probably in for pulling off a stunt like that. The ball shot into the waiting net of Sky who immediately rocketed forwards, her team mates forming up along side of her. I saw a smug grin on her face and I rolled to intercept, it looked like we'd been played from the start; remind me to check just who's doing the toss up before making any assumptions as to whether it is going to be 'easy'.

Sky dummied left as I plummeted towards her and I fell for it, screaming past her and had to roll onto my side to avoid crashing into one of her team mates and even so only missed by a few inches. I pulled up sharply and flipped so I was practically flying upright and flared my wings, trashing my speed and nearly pulling my wings out of my sockets. I crashed into a chimney and would have crushed my knees if I hadn't gone with the motion, coiling up like a spring and hanging there for a moment before kicking off hard and sweeping down with my wings.

I speed towards the opposition who were flying like an arrowhead, Sky in the centre being protected by her team mates. The few in my team that had hung back to stop this kind of thing from happening were swatted aside, the rest throwing themselves into reverse loops in the vain hope of reaching the hoop in time but none of them stood a chance. I pushed down harder putting everything I had into speed, skimming the rooftops and relying on the hot air coming from the tiles to keep me airborne. The formation ahead of me turned as one to the left so they didn't have to go over the small park, and have to start putting effort into staying up.

I didn't detour, the buildings disappeared from beneath me and I felt myself begin to fall as I lost the friendly thermal but I didn't have time to do anything but go faster. Below me I caught a flicker of movement but ignored it, it was probably a wild dog anyway. The park ended as suddenly as it had begun and I almost crashed into a roof, turning my near disaster into a kick launch off the apex at the last second and went spiralling into the sky mere yards away from Sky who was pulling back her arm to make a shot at the hoop.

Time crawled as Sky started to bring the stick forwards and I caught some speed of her slipstream and flew over her with centimetres to spare. With a flick of the wrist she sent the ball flying towards the hoop, a perfect shot, only spoiled by the fact I snagged it in my net with an elated cry of.

"Yes!" before realising I was now heading for the hoop at roughly one hundred and twenty. I pulled in my wings to avoid losing one on the pole, fell a few feet and grabbed wildly, gripping the pole in one hand and spiralling round it, the blood draining from my head a G-force took its toll.

The pole was ripped from my hand and I found myself rocketing towards their hoop, the other team in complete disarray. See, you get a really fast moving game when everyone can go a hundred plus. I looked over my shoulder to see just about everyone hot on my heels but Robin was forming up along side me only looking slightly annoyed and I could see the twins flying slightly ahead to open themselves up for a pass. Below us the buildings suddenly stopped as we flew back over the park and I glanced down and did a double take.

"Erasers!" I bellowed, realising what the shapes below were, and there must have been dozens of them.

Everyone looked down.

The Erasers looked up.

Then opened fire.


	6. Ruins

Ruins - Michael

The town was in ruins. Not that that was really surprising, after ten years without maintenance most places look rather run down. It hadn't being hit though so maybe we would find supplies, like chocolate. We'd run out of that when I was six. We passed dead houses with dead windows looking over dead gardens. There were weeds everywhere, though that's actually a good thing globally speaking, but apart from these few splotches of green though the town was mostly just dull, grey and dead. In all honesty it was better than I thought it would be, at least there was some life. I hadn't expected that.

"We should split up," Uncle Richard suggested in a choked voice. Everyone else nodded, they didn't trust themselves to speak, most had tears in their eyes, at least I think they did, it's hard to tell when you're all wearing masks.

We split up and went off to find what remained of our lives. I've never really known any life except for the bunker though, but I did go to my parent's old house. It didn't look anything like the photos but that wasn't really surprising. In all honesty it just looked dead, like everything else.

I made my way to the peeling front door. My mom had given me the key, God knows why she kept it, but I didn't need it, the door was already ajar. I had expected that as well, looters picking of the remains of towns, I'd thought of so many different possibilities for this day that nothing was going to really shock me.

I pushed it open, funny the lock didn't seem forced but what do I know about locks? I entered the house, past through the living room, ran my hand along the mouldering sofa which I could just barely remember and sighed. I never imagined the house like this but as I said it was hardly unexpected. I went upstairs, having to skip the steps that didn't look like they'd support my weight or were missing entirely and found my old room. It was barely recognisable, a few shreds of steam engine wallpaper hung from the walls but everything else had been taken. I couldn't imagine who would want a load of four year old's stuff in a nuclear wasteland. Maybe there were still kids out there but judging from the world outside there wasn't much chance of that.

Next I found my fathers office, that hadn't been as badly ransacked, most of his papers were strewn across the floor but the furniture was still there. I can't remember much about my father, my mother said he was a scientist and a great man but I never found out what he actually did. Genetics I think, but my knowledge of that science is slim to none. I picked up one of the files labelled E017, all the pages had been taken out but there was still a mug shot of a girl paper clipped to the inside, a test subject for a new wonder drug perhaps. I looked at some of the other files, H713, B901, HJ9314, D148, there was no way of telling which pages went where and it didn't matter, all these people were long dead.

I sat down in the middle of my father's office and took my mask off, it was probably knocking a day off my life every breath but what the heck, I was never going to live that long anyway. I sighed deeply, you know, the air didn't actually smell that bad, maybe we could still live on the surface, we'd have to start farming eventually and it wasn't like it was some arid wasteland out there. I looked out of the window overlooking the dead back garden, even the few scraggily weeds looked deformed and ill. Then again maybe we couldn't live out here, we'd need to find seeds for a start, then irrigate fields, and purify the water, all under the blazing sun. It would be simpler just to grow food underground.

The crackle of gunfire broke me out of my reprieve. What the hell? Everyone was dead who could be shooting? I had this sudden image of starving primeval savages shooting my friends, mistaking the masks for monsters and I grabbed my own mask, sprinting out of the house. Whatever had happened someone might be hurt, maybe I could try out my doctor skills on them.

It never occurred to me just how stupid it was to run towards the gunfire.


	7. Close Encounters

Close Encounters - Dee

Time seemed to crawl, it always happens when I get an adrenaline rush. The guns below me roared and I folded my wings to lower the chance of them getting hit and began to dive, drawing back my arm and hurling the ball towards the Erasers, a pathetic weapon but the only one I had to hand. Bullets whistled around me as I fell towards the Erasers and threw the stick for good measure, if I could get amongst them they wouldn't shoot at me, or maybe they would, Erasers are that suicidal. Behind me the others fell, some injured, others copying my manoeuvre, there were cries of pain as bullets bit into feathers and flesh, but even those seemed drawn out and slow.

The ball bounced harmlessly off an Eraser's temple, shortly followed by the stick that laid him out. The final volley of bullets screamed past us, there was a flash of pain as one grazed my elbow but I blocked that out. I picked a target, one Erasers scrabbling desperately at his belt for another clip, and flicked the tips of my wings to fall directly towards him.

He looked up at the last second, a mixture of rage and fear in his eyes and I flared my wings, feeling the deceleration pulling at my joints and whipping my legs round, smashing my feet into his head. The Eraser went over like a tree trunk, out cold before he even hit the ground and I landed hard on top of him, hitting the closest Eraser in the throat with my wingtip and watching him drop, gagging. I winced, wings are really not meant to be used like that, but you can't argue with results.

I yanked my crossbow from its clip on my back and pulled back on the string. An Eraser was charging at me, I ignored him. I could load and draw this thing in five seconds flat, I just had to blot out the huge wolf monster thirsting for my blood and not get distracted. I hooked the string and levitated a bolt into my waiting hand without looking. I knew practicing that would pay off. The Eraser leapt at me, claws outstretched, as I fitted the bolt and raised the bow in one fluid motion, there was no time to aim and probably no need for it.

I fitted the bow to my shoulder and fired. There was a thud as the bolt imbedded itself right in the middle of the Erasers mouth and straight through its brain. It wasn't that great a shot, he was only about six inches away from me, if it had been a good shot I wouldn't have to be worried about the three hundred pounds of Eraser flying towards me. He smashed into me like a sack of potatoes, knocking the breath out of me and sending us both crashing to the floor. I heaved him off me and got up looking in disgust at the blood staining the front of my shirt.

"Bloody Erasers," I muttered darkly and looked around. The battle was just about over, these Erasers weren't a patch on the ones we'd had to fight back at the beginning, most of us were lucky to come out of those fights alive, but to these Erasers those guys were three generations ago and Erasers as a species have not improved with age. A few of the Erasers were scampering into side streets, one or two of the guys were taking pot shots at them but most were cradling injured wings. We'd need to get the healer out here as there was no way was I carrying anyone back to the village.

I spotted Robin organising the wounded and realised that I should probably go help them. There was a scream of fear and pain from a few streets over. Or maybe not. I started running towards the scream reloading my crossbow as I went, apparently no one else had heard it because they weren't moving. Looks like I was going to get to be the hero this time.

I spread my wings wide and took off, flying low to the ground; though stupid as they are ugly, an Eraser can kill just about anything in about fifteen seconds. I accelerated down one of the roads, glancing down the side streets for the assailant and victim. First street, no. Second street, no. Third, n… yes. I banked shapely, brushing my wingtip along the road and kicking off a wall to stop myself hitting a building. Ahead of me there was an Eraser towering over someone in a white suit on the floor. I didn't recognise him. But that couldn't be right. How could I not recognise him? I knew everyone in the village and there was no one else for a hundred miles, we know, we've checked. I could worry about that later; there was blood on the ground and the Eraser, fully morphed and looking feral, was readying itself for a death blow.

"Hey ugly!" I yelled putting the bow to my shoulder and aiming down the shaft. The Eraser turned and I let lose. The bolt flew straight and missed by a good foot. I swore, that should teach me to give them warning, and reversed my grip on the crossbow, smashing the Eraser on the head with the butt as I flew past.

I flared my wings and tried to land but ended up running along the road almost tripping over my own feet. I skidded to a stop and rounded on the Eraser who growled at me whilst getting up, not even looking vaguely human. The kid on the floor was gapping at me open mouthed, well I say kid he was probably about my age, but what was he doing with that dorky suit? I mean if you had one of those on you wouldn't be able to open your wings.

A snarl from the Eraser brought me to my senses. "Birdie girl die now," he growled and charged. I rolled my eyes, this was the just one of the reasons we're making a printing press, retaining knowledge. Over the years Erasers have just gotten dumber, and I didn't even think that was possible. I snatched at my crossbow string and found to my horror that it had come off when I'd hit the Eraser over the head. Maybe I should just carry a club.

I unsheathed the dagger hidden in the crossbow's stock, always handy to have an inventor as a father, and braced myself for the Eraser. The kid was still on the floor staring. Idiot, how on Earth had he survived without learning you have to _run_ from Erasers. The Eraser took a swipe at my head, his claws scything through the air and I ducked under his arm, jabbing my dagger into his gut, twisting it out and darted backwards before he could even roar.

"Go on kid get out of here!" I yelled, jumping backwards to avoid a clawed fist. He didn't need telling twice, scrabbling to his feet and legging it down the street, I hoped he wouldn't run into anymore Erasers. I threw myself to one side as the Eraser leapt at me and fell heavily onto the asphalt. Scratch that, I hoped I didn't run into any more Erasers.

I drove my dagger into his thigh and tried to scramble away before it could recover from its leap. The Eraser rounded on me, fury in its eyes, well so much for that idea. I raised my dagger to try and ward it off, a pathetic gesture but I was out of options. It growled, showing pointed fangs at least as long as my dagger and I swallowed hard, did I have any chance? Not really, no.

I hurled my dagger at the Eraser, giving it a physic push to keep it flying straight and watched it bit deeply into the Erasers shoulder who roared in pain. Damn it, I was aiming for its throat. That's why I carry a crossbow, I'm terrible at the telekinetic stuff. The Eraser leapt at me and I covered my eyes, waiting for the inevitable hoping that it wouldn't hurt too much.

There was a twang and the Eraser screamed in pain, I opened my eyes to see it staggering backwards clutching at the bolt in its throat. There was another musical twang and a second bolt followed the first, this time catching the Eraser right between the eyes. The Eraser looked shocked for a moment, not quite realising what had happened then the light faded from its eyes and it fell slowly backwards, hitting the asphalt with a crash.

Robin appeared in my vision above me, crossbow held loosely in one hand.

"You know you really should be more careful dealing with the Erasers," he said almost nonchalantly. "Especially the feral ones."

"I could have taken him," I muttered, getting to my feet and walking over to the Eraser to retrieve my dagger. The Eraser was still vainly twitching, honestly how long does it take to realise you're dead?

"Yeah, you were dealing with that one really well," he pointed out. "Why were you out here anyway?"

"I was," I began and then suddenly realised that. A, I didn't know the kid. B, he hadn't been sensible enough to run from the Eraser and C, I had never seen that he had wings. And that all added up to one thing. He was human. Damn, I thought they'd all died out long ago but apparently I was mistaken.

"Chasing him," I gave as an explanation pointing at the Eraser. I wasn't sure how Robin or the other would react to the news that there were humans around again, the White Coats hadn't exactly made their species popular, the nuclear war may have something to with it as well.

"And that turned out just great didn't it," he shot back. I just grunted. "You know you don't have to always be proving yourself."

I didn't answer that one either, just changed the subject. "The game's over then?" I asked picking up my crossbow and fitting my dagger back into its slot.

"You know, it just might be," he said rolling eyes and levitating his bolts out of the Eraser. "We've only got about three people who can fly left."

"Ouch," I said with a wince. "Anyone gone to get the healer yet."

"First thing we did. Come on, we need to look after the others."

"Sure," I said, looking at the Eraser staring glassy eyed into space. The Erasers were back, and so were the humans. Why were they back after all this time?


	8. Monsters

Monsters - Michael 

I ran as fast as my legs would carry me, not running in any particular direction just running to escape whatever the hell those things were. The tiny rational part of my brain was wondering just what on earth a winged girl and something out of a werewolf legend were doing in a post apocalyptic wasteland, but it was mostly drowned out by my survival reflexes screaming in terror.

There was a howl of rage behind me and I ran faster, finding speed that I didn't know I had by putting my head down and running blindly. I really wished I'd spent more time in the gym. I barrelled into something solid, and whatever it was caught hold of my arms. I lashed out wildly.

"Whoa lad, it's me," Uncle Richard said, dodging my clumsy blow and lifting up his mask so I could see his face.

"Uncle?" I asked, surprised, and then gasped. "There's some kind of monster back there."

"Aye lad, I've met them too." He gestured at the thick bandage on his arm which was already stained with blood. That was decidedly bad, and even worse if he'd been bitten. Who knew what those wolf monsters had in their mouths.

"Now take this," he continued, handing me a pistol. "I'll get you out of here."

"I don't know to use this," I protested, gesturing with the gun and Uncle Richard hastily pushed the barrel away from his face.

"Point it at anything with more teeth than can fit in its mouth and pull," he told me gruffly. "Now watch my back."

We set off at a jog, keeping a wary eye out for the wolf monsters. I felt a little safer with Uncle Richard and my panic was subsiding, though I did manage to accidentally shoot a flower pot and Uncle Richard made me put the safety on after that.

We didn't see any more wolf monsters so I spent plenty of time wondering about them. Mutant wolves didn't make sense; radiation doesn't create monsters, it kills things, painfully, and I didn't even want to think where the winged people came from. The complexity of making a humanoid fly was mind-boggling.

Through sheer luck, or maybe good judgment we found Mitch and JJ sheltering behind a wrecked car on the way out of town. It looked like they'd found trouble too, especially as they had their guns out, and there was a wolf-like looking corpse draped over the bonnet of the car.

"Thank God, it's you Sir," Mitch said the moment he saw Uncle Richard. "We were ambushed investigating the supermarket and… well they got Tyler." I froze when I head that; Tyler had always been one of the happy ones, never depressed by our situation, he couldn't be dead. That just wouldn't be fair.

"Any idea who they are?" Uncle Richard asked gruffly, not missing a beat and crouching down next to them.

"Not a clue, Rich," JJ said shrugging. "Some kind of mutants maybe?"

"Mutation doesn't work like that," I said softly, sitting down with my back against the car and steadfastly ignoring the dead 'thing' next to me.

"The kid's right," Uncle Richard said. "But whatever they are we can assume they're hostile."

"No shit," Mitch muttered and Uncle Richard glared at him.

"We'll wait here for Stacey and Willis," he announced. "Keep an eye out for any more of those things, and if no one turns up in fifteen minutes we'll make a run for the bunker.

The next ten minutes passed in tense silence. My mind had kind of gone blank with shock and the small rational part was screaming that this could not be happening. The actual part of me that dealt with survival instincts was telling me to run like hell, which helped a whole lot, and even my common sense was telling me that I had no business holding a gun and I was more likely to shoot someone accidentally than hit a monster.

I need to get all these split personalities sorted out, having that much confliction can not be normal.

I almost jumped out of my skin as Stacey sprinted round a corner, bringing her gun up and I ducked instinctively, waiting for a bang. Which didn't come.

"Sir!" she exclaimed, running towards us. "Thank heavens I found you. They got Willis. And there were these… Angels."

Uncle Richard's eyes widened behind his mask at the mention of angels and I ducked my eyes. For some reason I didn't want to mention the girl I'd seen, part of me was in denial over whether or not she existed. Heck, a good chunk was insisting this entire thing couldn't possibly be happening.

"Right," Uncle Richard said after a moment. "We make a run for the bunker. Stay sharp and shoot anything that even looks like it might be a threat."

And with that stirring speech we set off at a jog. It actually turned out to be rather uneventful, there was only one case of someone shooting at shadows and even then it turned out to be just that. Shadows. The monsters seemed to have left us alone and I for one was glad for that. Still it was a relief when the familiar doors of the bunker appeared through the trees.

"Almost there," Uncle Richard called over his shoulder as he burst through the tree line and a single shot rang out.

Uncle Richard collapsed as his leg was torn out from under him and Mitch and JJ sped out of the forest, guns barking. I heard a bellow of pain from across the car park. Stacy was rushing to Uncle Richard's side and I found myself running out of the woods, bringing my gun up and searching for a monster to shoot at. I can't say I wasn't spoiled for choice, there were at least twenty, hiding in and among the small forest that had grown up around the site.

"Get to the bunker," I head Uncle Richard gasp as bullets pinged around me and my self preservation instinct finally got its own way. I started sprinting, firing randomly at the wolf monsters and rapidly drawing level with Mitch and JJ who were also accelerating towards safety.

My gun clicked empty at about midway across the parking lot and I didn't have a spare clip, though that would be fairly redundant as I don't know how to re-load a gun anyway. I head Mitch yell as a bullet traced a line across his arm and the storm of gunfire intensified until they too, ran out of bullets.

We kept running though.

Stacy screamed as we sprinted into the scant cover of the door recess, and I whirled to see her drop like a rock. No time to stop though. No time to do anything at all. The door began to inch open, painfully slowly and I spotted more wolf monsters appearing out of the woods, aiming nasty looking guns which looked like they'd been decorated with bones, and two dragging Uncle Richard back into the trees. I couldn't do anything about it though, and Mitch and JJ were desperately dragging Stacy towards the doors, ricochets bursting around them.

"It'll be okay Stace'!" I heard Mitch half yell over the roar of gunfire as they pulled her towards the door that was barely a quarter open.

"Come on kid, move it!" JJ roared, grabbing my shoulder and dragging me under the door.

Bullets were pinging off the metal as JJ slammed the door into reverse and it inched just as slowly down. A few bullets made it through the gap and when pinging around the small space sending us sprawling for cover, but none of the monsters attempted to follow and after a tense silence the door thundered shut.

I collapsed stunned against the sidewall as the next door began to crawl open. I should've been doing something. Mitch was performing desperate CPR on Stacy and I at least knew first aid, I could've been helping, but I only sat there stunned, my entire mind insisting:

"This shouldn't be happening."


	9. Sneak

Sneak - Dee

There are three stages to an Eraser sighting: excitement, panic and boredom. The exciting bit was long over, panic was subsiding to a dull roar, and basically I was once again, becoming crushingly bored. It doesn't help that there's a tendency for the older people to put the kids on baby sitting duty while they discus 'adult matters'. I find it deeply ironic that I'm still considered a kid despite the fact I've now reached Dat's age when he took charge and I repeat this frequently and loudly.

Maybe that's why I always end up taking care of some of the more annoying little brats. Anyway, the clear up after the Eraser attack went fairly uneventfully. By the time just about the whole village arrived Ride of the Valkyries style, fully armed and ready for battle, the Erasers had vanished into the woods and only the rather tedious stuff was left to do. Fortunately we have quite a good healer so no one died and most were more stiff than badly injured; still they'd be irritated about not being able to fly for a week or so. I managed to evade the whole treatment thing by avoiding just about everyone but didn't manage to dodge Jaz so that got me roped into babysitting.

"This is so unfair," I fumed, hunching over and glaring at the various kids arrayed around the room, the majority of who were under six or so and so not particularly interesting to talk to.

"That's five," Robin pointed out, leaning against the wall next to me.

"Stop that," I snapped. "And anyway it is."

"Six."

"I mean we were the ones actually fighting the Erasers," I continued, ignoring him. "They should be asking us all about it not just shoving us into a corner and forgetting about us."

"You know, you were the one who did a blow by blow report of your fight with that Eraser. Maybe they know enough by now."

"I could have left something out," I countered indignantly, ignoring his snort of disbelief. "Besides, they know we can fight, it just not fair that they sideline us like this."

"Seven."

"Shut up Robin. You can't like it either."

"Like it? Maybe not," he said with another shrug. "It's probably for the best though."

"Psh," I said dismissively. "You don't really believe that. Just think what they could be talking about right now."

"Well it's been about half an hour," he said, looking at his watch. "They're probably still arguing over what we should do, maybe setting out a few patrols."

"Whatever they're doing it's got to be better than this."

"I wouldn't count on it. The only one I went to I was bored out of my mind for the whole thing. I almost chewed off my own leg to escape."

I gave him a funny look for that then shook my head. "Whatever, I'm going to break out. This is inhumane."

"Nine."

"Oh now, you can not possibly count that."

"Ten."

"Stop with that damn count already!"

"Eleven," he said smirking. "And I think that's a new record for the Dee's Whining Counter to reach double figures."

"You suck. And I'm getting out of here."

"You'll never get past Mab," he pointed out. Mab is the only person I know who actually volunteers for this thing, and to say she was mothering would be the understatement of the decade. The kids love her because she dotes on them so much but she forces me to do something I hate so naturally there's a little bit of tension between us. Plus she still treats me like a kid even though I'm completely mature now.

"I'll slip out the back door," I said shrugging.

"The house is round Dee," he sighed.

"Just watch me. Back in a minute," I announced to the room in general and walked casually into the bathroom.

Now on the long list of things that human's one upped us on, indoor pluming is probably the one I whish we still had the most. Sure we've still got hot water due to clever use of solar panels; two miles of steel pipes and quite a bit of telekinesis but there aren't quite enough of us to warrant building a sewer just yet. Besides we live thirty feet off the ground.

In case you haven't guessed the toilet is essentially a hole in the floor with a seat over it and while this sounds disgusting it at least means you never have to unclog your toilet. Also it gives me an escape route.

"Gross, gross, gross, gross," I muttered, lifting up the base and lugging it out of the way and revealing a good sized hole in the floor.

I took a few steps back. This was going to be messy if I got it wrong, literally, but anything would be better than babysitting. I sized up the hole for a moment and then threw myself forward, diving and swinging my legs over my head and slipping though the gap with centimetres to spare.

I plummeted for a moment while struts flashed past and then flared my wings, pulling up sharply and had to throw myself out of a tree that loomed out of the darkness. Just a little tip; never, ever fly below the tree line, especially at night. Only the insanely talented or just insane would try a stunt like that. Naturally I'm in that first category.

Another trunk leapt towards me and I span wildly, scraping the bark this time and had to back flap frantically as two more appeared far too close together to fly through. A desperate flap sent me through the gap upright, sideways and wings folded and I had to unfurl my wings upside-down to avoid crashing into the ground and spin desperately to get upright. My foot clipped a root as I fought to gain altitude, swinging round a tree to get back on course and finally got to a rough cruising altitude just bellow the house struts.

I'd kind of got the hang of it by the time I got to the main hut, a massive structure that's built around a central tree and the six others surrounding it, and is the only building that holds our whole population. Sans 'kids' of course. I ghosted beneath the struts and pulled up sharply, doing a graceful reverse loop, somehow missing the tree limbs in my way and landed softly on the roof.

I began to skulk across the roof, concentrating on 'fuzzing' myself. Fuzzing is something that can only exist in a psychic society, basically you concentrate on not being seen really hard and no one can pick you up telekinetically. I have no idea just how it works but it does, and it means that none of the hundred and fifty psychics ten feet from me would pick me up. At least until something distracted me that was.

"So it's decided," Dat's voice drifted through a gap between the central tree and the roof and I skulked closer. "For now we only need to double patrols and make sure no one goes unarmed."

I dropped onto my stomach so I could hear better and peaked through the gap. Dat could just be seen at the centre of the throng of bird people, most of whom were sitting on the floor because no one's yet bothered to make a hundred and fifty chairs that would only be used once in a blue moon. I guess technically we have quite a democratic system, Dat's not elected but is undoubtedly the best person for the job of leader and everyone is free to make a suggestion if they want. Getting people to pay attention to you is another matter, but we don't really have the population for anything more complicated. I mean, you know all these people personally. Who you follow in a time of crisis is just common sense.

There was some general muttering over Dat's pronouncement but it died down pretty quickly. Robin may have been right about this being boring.

"Next we have a matter just as important," Dat continued. "Humans have been found near the village."

My eyes widened in surprise. Had they found the kid after all? Or maybe just his body given how many Erasers were in the area. I really should have followed him, just to make sure he made it out alright.

"Do they know we're here?" one of the older women asked sounding panicked.

"We don't know," Dat admitted. "Bodies were found in the town after the Eraser attack. They were dead and there were signs of a battle around them, as far as we can tell they were exploring and the Erasers happened to come across them. What we can't figure out is where they came from; they certainly aren't local, they didn't look like they were prepared for a long journey and no one's seen a working human settlement for something like eight years, so it's a mystery."

There was another round of mutterings which was suddenly broken by Snap.

"There's a fallout shelter nearby isn't there?" she asked suddenly.

"True," Dat admitted.

"And it's the ten year anniversary today," another voice pointed out. I couldn't see who it was; the tree trunk was in the way.

"So they're coming out of the woodwork," Zap completed. He's usually in the forerunners of those putting two and two together. "Ten years exactly after the cataclysm and they think the worlds repaired itself enough for them to live outside."

Talon snorted darkly. "They don't deserve the world after what they did to it," he growled.

"Why ten years though?" Joy cut in.

"It's a nice round number," Zap hazarded. "You go for ten, not ten and eight twenty-ninths."

"Fascinating as this is," Dat interjected, trying to get the discussion back on track. "It doesn't really matter why the humans are back but what we are going to do about it. After the loss of any of their members they are going to be extremely aggressive, we know they have access to weapons and they are unlikely to view us as friendly at first."

"We need to keep a watch on the bunker," Talon said with his usual sense of righteous certainty. "Have an armed response ready in case they turn hostile. Redouble the search of the surrounding area so that no other humans can get onto the surface. Don't let anything without wings even near the village."

"And if we'd like to be peaceful," Jaz cut in angrily.

"They're humans," Talon countered with a shrug. "Peace isn't in their vocabulary." There's some irony in there as we are actually speaking English, well pidgin English at least. "If we negotiate us they'll back stab us and we'll be murdered in our beds."

There was a general outcry over that proclamation but just then a heavy hand grabbed my shoulder and I whirled, stifling a yell to see Max towering over me.

"Again Dee?" he asked with a sigh.

"Err," I said hesitantly, glancing around for an escape route and not finding one. "I didn't do it?" I hazarded.

He shook his head slowly.

I was going to get into so much trouble for this.


	10. Fools Rush In

Fools Rush In - Michael

Pandemonium would be an understatement. The wolf monster attack didn't merely cause panic but sheer terror in most people and worst, hopelessness. It had been our brave new world; no one had even countenanced the fact that someone else may have taken it first. There was this vague hope I suppose, that other humans had survived, rebuilt the world somewhat or even just been there to produce something to strive for. But there hadn't been a soul in sight and if the world was inhabited by those wolf things the future was looking rather bleak for the human race.

Stacey died, by the way. By all rights I should've been more shook up about it but I think I was more or less still in shock. Besides there was nothing much I could have done anyway; the bullet hit a major vein in her leg, by the time the third door opened she was unconscious and we don't have donor blood any more. Heck, I didn't even know what her blood type was, let alone whether anyone else in The Bunker was a match, so our casualty count was brought to three.

I'm still counting only three; Uncle Richard had definitely been taken alive and no one was willing to give up hope on another person. There were only forty four of us left anyway, even with the children, and giving up on even one person would mean extinction. Hence there was another expedition being planned, this time with assault rifles and through whining, conniving and the fact that our only other medic was in his sixties, I managed to get on the squad.

Mom really didn't want me to go out there. Seriously didn't want me to go out and I guess in retrospect I don't really know why I wanted out anyway. Revenge maybe? Anyway I found myself facing down the blast doors once more, this time with a far too heavy gun, grossly overlarge flack vest and a first aid kit which I swear contained a medicinal block of lead.

"Ready guys?" Mitch asked grimly. He'd taken Stacy's death hard and was apparently making up for it in grenades as he had at least a dozen strapped around his person; he'd also neglected the gasmask though just about everyone but me had.

There were some general mutterings of agreement. If Mitch had had his way we would have been out before sun set, but instead we'd waited until the next day. I think it was around nine but none of the clocks are accurate after ten years without natural light so suffice to say the sun was up.

The doors began to rumble open and before I knew it we were once again blinking in the natural light, something I'm still really not used to. Everyone fanned out immediately, myself sticking near the back and stepping cautiously around a blood stain. There was nothing to see though, no monsters, just the gently swaying trees and a few birds far in the distance, a bit of a let down really.

"Okay, spread out," Mitch growled. "There's no way they could just disappear without a trace. There'll be signs, tracks. Pair up and look for them."

There was a dark glint in his eye that made everyone obey without question, you don't argue with someone who's got that kind of look.

I got paired with Reggie, supposedly an ex-corporal and guard of the base, now approaching his mid forties and against all the odds overweight. I don't quite know how he managed to get overweight as we're on rations, so its one of the many, okay three, unsolved mysteries of The Bunker.

"This is stupid," he snapped, whipping his brow and sitting down on a rock. "We're lost and I don't think this trail is the right way either."

"It's a trail isn't it?" I asked, sitting down on the ground next to him. We'd been wandering for about half an hour after it turned out neither of us knew the first thing about tracking. I had half expected that tracking was going to be easy. Just follow the boot prints kind of thing, but after following a deer tail for a half mile, losing it entirely it, finding another and losing that one too it was probably about time we admitted we were lost. Some rescue this was turning out to be.

"A trail to where?" he asked bitterly hoisting his rifle over his shoulder, just as a gun roared and a bullet pinged off the rifle casing embedding itself into his back and sending him sprawling.

I whirled, trying to rise at the same time and went sprawling, firing randomly in the direction of the shot. I have absolutely no idea whether I hit anything or not but another shot thudded into the ground next to me and I scrambled to my feet, desperately searching for the attacker, Reggie was moaning on the ground next to me but there wasn't a damn thing I could do for him while under attack.

Another shot whistled over my head, this time from my left and I ducked instinctively, opening fire on an unoffending bush, sending bullets screaming through the air and just about everything but an assailant. A glance at Reggie told me he wasn't going to last five minutes without medical assistance, unless gargling blood has suddenly become good for your health, but there was simply nothing I could do.

Another shot from another direction blew splinters off a tree next to me and I dropped the first aid kit as I let loose once again in the general of the bang, finally clicking empty. That's what clinched it I suppose, another shot ricocheted off a rock next to me and I bolted.

Did I feel guilty? Yes, but I know enough about medicine to know that when someone starts coughing up blood there isn't a damn lot you can do for them. Not without an operating theatre and I didn't have one of those with me. I ran desperately through the forest, branches snatching at my clothes and the occasional spattering of gunfire following far too close behind me. Once again I had no idea where I was going and I wasn't even quite sure what I was running from.

Heavy footsteps came crashing through the forest after me and I accelerated, snatching glances over my shoulder to see something large storming through the foliage, running on all fours and closing fast. I burst out into a clearing just as a tree root sent me sprawling ignominiously onto the ground, cracking my head on the packed earth about a half inch from a rather pointed rock.

I rolled off my gun which I was sure was going to leave a permanent impression on my ribcage, and heard a half bellow, half howl as a wolf monster burst out of the forest. The thing towered over me, at least seven feet tall and muscled like an insane body builder. It wasn't its sheer bulk that drew your eyes but the teeth. Nothing should have teeth like that, and no one should have to face down one of these things more than once in a life time and this was my second in twenty four hours.

I was also holding an empty weapon, was half its size and flat on my back.

The thing looked down at me, a wicked gleam in its eyes.

"Cue dues ex machina?" I asked hopefully then closed my eyes to wait for the end.


	11. The Deus ex Machina

The Deus ex Machina - Dee

In the end it turned out I got in more trouble for sneaking past Mab than actually spying on the council meeting, mostly because that would make it the fourth time this month and I think they're still discussing what would be my worst punishment. Jaz says actually making me go to the damn things. At least my stealth skills are improving; usually they get me before I even land.

Anyway, the next day came without any particular incident; my punishment was still in 'pending' status so I was more or less free for the time being. At least until I had shadow duty later in the day but come the morning I was free from responsibility and out for a morning flight slightly off the beaten path. If I 'accidentally' came across any wandering Erasers, well that was all the better.

Gunfire suddenly rattled into life in the forest below and I jumped instinctively, completely messing up my wing beat and plummeting a good thirty feet before levelling off in the general direction of the gunfire, hopefully tuning the drop into a graceful swoop. Or at least that's what I'll tell anyone who asks. I began accelerating towards the noise as an answering barrage of shots rang out, followed by a second roar of a rifle and I flipped the crossbow off my back, dropping a quarrel into the slot. I was not planning to get caught flat footed again.

There was another bang and an answering battery of fire, right bellow me this time and I squinted through the trees, rising smoothly on an updraft all the time looking for movement. A splash of red caught my eye and a quick one eighty revealed a body lying on the forest floor, a large gun strapped over its shoulder. Not an Eraser but not one of us either. Another human then.

An Eraser sprinted into and out of my view and I plummeted towards him, pulling up sharply just above the trees and skimming over the sea of green, hoping like hell he didn't have a friend, or the good sense to look up. I did briefly wonder just where he was running to. There was nothing but forest for about two miles and the village was in completely the opposite direction.

A gap in the trees loomed ahead of me and I powered forwards, checking one last time that the Eraser was exactly where I wanted him, and dropped. I flared my wings a hairs breadth from the ground and flicked upwards, rushing towards the Eraser just as he started to turn his head, bringing my crossbow up to my shoulder.

I was over him in a flash, the quarrel hitting home deep in his skull, and I was barrel rolling back towards the sun as I heard one of the Feral's all too human howls. This was beginning to get serious, and last meeting with a Feral didn't exactly end well. Unfortunately a quick scan of the horizon told me there was no one to call for help and I'm nowhere near strong enough to do a telekinetic flash during the day. I dropped back towards the forest, snapping another bolt out of my quiver and heading in the rough direction of the howl. I'd be safe if I stayed in the air, it would be like shooting a really big fish in a barrel and would more than make up for Robin having to save me the other day.

I caught a snatch of grey fur through the canopy and dropped through the tree line, relying on dumb luck for there not to be an offending trunk in the way and locked the Feral in my vision. He was about a dozen yards away, not looking in my direction and a perfect target silhouetted against a bright clearing. Oddly, he seemed to be looking at something. At the very last second I spotted a kid, the kid, lying once again in front of the Feral and I threw myself to one side, roaring past the Eraser and letting loose a shot far too late that went whistling off into the foliage.

I wrenched my wings back, flinging myself up and round, feeling the G-force pulling at my joints, trying and failing to suck a bolt out of my quiver only to have it ripped away or at least me ripped away from it. The Feral was tracing my path with its wicked eyes and here was me with an unloaded bow and a defenceless kid to protect.

I plunged towards the thing, on a collision course for its chest and flared my wings at the very last instant sending me spinning backwards, bringing my feet up and slamming into it with all my strength. For the very briefest moment I thought I was just going to bounce off, but then he began to topple backwards. Unfortunately, I was still doing about thirty miles an hour and so went flying, flipping head over heels above him and hitting the ground with a crash, rolling over and over until I finally came to a rest upside-down with my back against a tree, wings splayed around me.

The Feral hit the ground with an almighty crash, but before the dust had even settled had rolled over onto all fours and was prowling towards me. I was still seeing stars and my crossbow was nowhere to be seen, plus the trail of wood splinters between me and the Eraser said that my bolts were probably broken. This was so not going like I planned; I couldn't even concentrate enough to pull any remaining arrow heads out of my quiver and that was assuming there were arrow heads left.

I flopped onto the ground, desperately trying to get my brain ticking over, or at least stop my ears ringing. It would be incredibly annoying to die and have the last thing I hear be the ringing in my ears. The Feral suddenly loomed over me, fully upright now and blocking out the light with its vast bulk, it was quite disturbing it had managed to stand upright without my notice. I scrabbled around in the dirt for a weapon, finally settling on a rounded rock, and hurled it towards the Eraser.

The Eraser moved its head all of two inches to dodge the rock, which barely made it above the thing's shoulders before falling back towards the ground and landing with a pathetic thud.

"Damn it," I said weakly, and the Eraser grinned viciously, bearing its teeth and deliberately giving me a good look at its far too large claws. There was the sudden roar of automatic gunfire and bursts of red splattered themselves across its chest as it shuddered under a barrage of bullets.

The thing looked down in surprise at the blood soaking into its fur, and ever so slowly its eyes glazed over and it began to fall, right on top of me. I threw myself to one side as for the second time in a minute the Feral hit the ground like a tonne of bricks, and I unfortunately managed to roll onto an arrow head.

"Stupid bloody thing," I muttered, picking up the arrowhead, and then spotted the kid who was holding a smoking assault rifle and looking down at the Feral's corpse in horror.

"Thanks for the save," I panted as I slowly got to my feet and then when I didn't get a response added. "Hey, are you okay?"

"What the hell is going on!" he suddenly exploded, dropping the gun and screaming at the top of his lungs. "What the hell are these things? Why are they here? This is supposed to be a post apocalyptic wasteland! Why are their wolf monsters, winged people and a God damned forest?"

There was a stunned moment in which he tried to catch his breath and I waited for the echoes to die away.

"Err, which one do you want answered first?" I asked hesitantly, really glad that he'd dropped the gun.

"Wolf monsters, please."

"Well," I began, lacing my hands behind my head to try and beat the ache in my spine. "They're originally some kind of super soldier experiment, I think, but they've been breeding ever since the cataclysm so they've mutated a bit since then." I kicked the Feral's corpse as I said that, it was still twitching slightly, stubborn things Erasers.

"Super soldiers?" he asked disbelievingly. "Science-fiction much?"

I flared the tips of wings and rolled my eyes.

"Okay point," he conceded. "I take it the wings are unnatural too?"

"Yep. Same scientists as it happens." I began to root around in the underbrush for my crossbow and then froze as I heard the snap of a twig under a boot.

"And finally, the forest?" he asked as I glanced around frantically, apparently oblivious.

"Down!" I yelled, finally spotting the Eraser sneaking up behind the kid with a rather nasty looking gun and leapt without a second thought towards the kid who instead of getting down like I told him was instead looking round to see what I was yelling about.

I slammed into him as the Eraser opened fire, bullets whistling scant inches over my head and we crashed to the ground as I hurled the arrowhead I'd palmed earlier, at the Eraser, giving it a telekinetic kick that almost broke my wrist on the backlash. The bolt flew true for once and slammed into the Eraser, catching him clean on the chest and tossing him backwards like a rag doll. He hit the ground a second later, decidedly dead.

"That's two to one now," I pointed out, getting off the kid, dusting myself off and helping him up.

"Two to one what?" he asked, eyeing the corpse of the second Eraser and shuddering, it's always freaky how start looking more wolf like after they're dead.

"How many times we've saved each others lives," I explained casually, finally spotting my crossbow hiding under a thicket.

"Great, the outside world's insane," he muttered darkly.

"You're welcome," I said with mock brightness, rolling my eyes again, picking up my crossbow and checking for damage. Fortunately apart from a few nicks and losing the string it seamed to be fine; Zap sure knows how to build these things solidly.

"Sorry, bad day," he explained. "So why isn't the world a wasteland then?"

"It is," I said shrugging. "We're in a fairly good area, there weren't any major targets nearby and we're far enough north that the trees are used to long winters so they survived the fallout."

"No chance humans have rebuilt the world then?" he asked hopefully, practically begging me to correct him.

"If there are humans out there we haven't seen them," I told him apologetically.

He deflated visibly. "And are there a lot of wolf monsters out there?"

"The Erasers?" I queried. "Probably. We thought that they'd all died out, but somehow I doubt there are only three."

The kid froze and looked suddenly at the Feral's corpse. "It doesn't have a gun," he whispered.

"Err?"

"I was shot at from three directions," he explained hurriedly.

Ah.

A gun barked suddenly and the kid went spinning to the floor as a dark red stain began to soak into his jacket just above his hip. My eyes locked onto the Eraser almost instantly. He was already loading another round into his gun as I started sprinting towards him, whipping the hidden dagger out of its home in the crossbow stock, and leaping forwards, spreading my wings wide to catch myself before I hit the ground.

The gun roared again and I felt a bullet scream over my shoulder blades as I dropped low enough to scrape the earth, then gave an almighty flap with my wings, hurling myself towards the Eraser who brought up the rifle defensively. I barrelled into him, twitching my arm around his hasty guard and slamming my forearm into his throat.

My dagger bit home in his stomach a moment later and tore a deep gash, as I was catapulted off the Eraser by my momentum and went spinning into the canopy. This time I managed to regain some semblance of control, flickering my wings to get me level but then I clipped a limb on a branch and was sent crashing through the trees, seemingly hitting every bough in existence before landing head first and in the most ungraceful way imaginable. Fortunately I wasn't actually going fast enough to seriously hurt myself; still I was going to be picking leaves out of my hair for days.

"Okay," I growled to myself as I struggled to my feet, furling my wings painfully behind me. "I think I've fought enough Erasers for this week."

My gaze caught on the kid lying bleeding on the forest floor and I scurried over, grabbing his wrist to check for a pulse and moving his head so he wasn't face down in the dirt.

"Hey kid?" I asked desperately, not actually finding a pulse but that may have been my fault more than his, and trying to remember some first aid. "Err, what's your name?"

"Michael," he answered weakly, as I finally got myself together enough to put a cloth over his wound. "Michael Conner."

"Well Mike," I said picking him up gently, ignoring his hiss of pain and doing the math in my head. It was about three miles to the village, flying was out judging by how much he weighed so I was going to have to run it and just hope he had enough time. "This'll be number three."

I sprinted off into the forest, Matthew's blood already soaking into my shirt, praying that I would get there in time.


	12. Saviour

Saviour - Michael 

The next half hour was more or less a blur of pain as I drifted in and out of consciousness. It turned out getting shot really hurt, and the flack jacket had done absolutely nothing to blunt the blow. Actually that was a lie, but as I think it just slowed the bullet enough for it to lodge neatly in my kidney, I might as well have not worn the blasted thing. I don't particularly remember much of the journey, just a blur of half formed shapes, trying and failing to focus on anything. I definitely tried to give some advice on what to do with a gunshot victim, like never pick them up and run though a forest, but didn't quite get beyond the thinking stage before another jolt sent a dagger of pain through my side.

I was kind of half aware when we finally came to a stop, the girl breathing heavily. I had tried to ask her name but that had gone the same way as all the other things I'd tried to say.

"Okay," she muttered to herself and I craned my neck around enough to see she was looking up at a dark disk in the canopy. "I can do this."

A pins and needles feeling rippled across me, which probably is a testament to how I'd become far too used the pain of the bullet wound. There was this sudden jerk as the ground rushed away and I yelled in pain as my wound screamed. We landed heavily and she finally put me face down on some kind of wooden platform where I half expected the pain would die down without me being jostled all the time. No such luck as it happened.

"Sora!" she roared, hammering on wood, probably a door. I wasn't prepared to lift my head to check "Get Hope out here, we've got an emergency!"

I wondered briefly why hope would be needed; surely painkillers would be more useful.

"Dee is this like last time?" A rather annoyed voice asked as the door swung open. "Hope's…" She petered off, probably upon seeing me. "Who…? Never mind get him inside."

I was picked up roughly once more before being deposited gently on a bed inside. I would have appreciated the caution earlier but survivors can't be choosers. A valiant effort actually allowed me to focus for a moment and I saw I was inside some kind of roundhouse. There were an unusual amount of beds though and they looked practically unused so maybe I'd gotten lucky and they actually had hospitals. Asprin would be nice too.

"Where did you find him?" the woman asked, in a hushed voice.

I wondered whether after a major wound if I should try and stay awake or go to sleep. Sleep was looking good just then.

"The forest," the girl responded, Dee I think it was though I may have just missed the rest of her name. "There were lots of Erasers and no, I don't have any idea where he came from."

"I'll get Hope, and tell Dat."

There were more hurried footsteps and Dee crouched down next to me. "Doing okay there Michael?" she asked softly.

"Been better," I muttered. "Hope's a person right? Doctor?"

"In a manner of speaking," he said hesitantly after a suspiciously long pause. "A healer certainly."

I didn't like the sound of that much but before I could muster the energy to say anything else there was a haze flash in my peripheral vision and a little girl appeared next to Dee with an anxious look.

"Hi, I'm Hope," she said, attempting to smile reassuringly, an effect ruined by the dark circles under her eyes.

I groaned softly. I had not been expecting a six year old doctor. Actually I think that's a contradiction in terms.

"Please tell me this is a joke," I said weakly, stifling a cough.

"No joke," Hope said, deadly serious, something disconcerting to hear from a kid. "Now just give me a moment and you'll be better in just a minute."

See this is what happens when people are cut off from modern medicine, they turn to faith healing.

They disappeared from my field of vision and I felt my jacket removed along with the rudimentary bandages, both of which hurt like hell.

"Now this is going to hurt," Hope said grimly and my thought response was.

"You mean it hasn't already?" I didn't quite manage to get the words out though.

A pressure appeared around my wound and I hissed in pain, really wishing that I knew what she was planning. Whatever it was it was not going to be good.

There was a disgusting sucking sound and I roared in pain as it felt like I'd gotten shot again but this time in reverse. The whole world was awash with agony for an instant that felt more like a millennia and then suddenly it was over. Something hit the ground next to me with a bright rattle and I flopped back onto the bed. I hadn't even realised that I'd been flailing.

"You weren't kidding about it hurting then?" I murmured into the mattress and craned my neck slightly to see a blood stained and flattened bullet lying on the floor. It was amazing such a little thing could cause so much pain, though I would very much like to know how it had been extracted without a scalpel and just how many blood vessels it had ruptured on its way out.

"Actually this bit's going to hurt more," Hope admitted. I felt my eyes widen, I'd had more than enough pain for one day. "Now brace yourself."

I had a split second in which I clenched my fists and squeezed my eyes shut, before my side was hit by a wall of pain. It felt like I was on fire. Actually that's not true, it was more like my kidney was being torn up by a lunatic with a lawn mower, the pieces shuffled by earwigs and then replaced like crazy paving by a Picasso fanatic. And if you think that's a vivid picture try doubling it and you'll get roughly what it felt like.

I sat bolt upright screaming in pain and almost instantly the colour began to drain out of the world.

"Is he okay?" Dee asked Hope anxiously as I realised that my scream had petered away and the pain had gone, though I had just lost quite a lot of blood.

"Bullet wounds take a long time to heal," Hope explained with a shrug. "I would catch him though."

I saw Dee leap forwards as the room began to spin and I successfully managed to do what I'd been trying to do for the last half hour as I sank into blessed unconsciousness.


	13. Better and Better?

Better and Better? - Michael

I woke slowly, lazily cracking open my eyes and gazing unseeing into the sunlit room. Suddenly I realised that I knew absolutely nowhere that would actually have sunlight, and by extension I had no idea where I was. Oh, and I'd just been shot recently.

I sat bolt upright, thrashing and looking around wildly and only managed to pull the sheets into a tangled knot around my legs, just barely staying on the bed. I took a deep steadying breath and forced myself to calm down, yes I had been shot, but I'd been rescued by a girl with wings who happened to be sitting on the bed next to me.

"Are you okay?" she asked anxiously, putting her arm around me and I clasped my hands over my eyes.

"I was really hoping to wake up in my own bunk," I admitted with a groan and then craned my neck to check my wound; for a confounding moment couldn't find it. Then I noticed a patch of pink skin roughly where I'd been shot and put two and two together.

"Err," I began hesitantly, also noticing that I was curiously no longer wearing my shirt. "How long have I been here?"

"About six hours or so," she explained in a nonchalant tone, sitting back down on her own bed, now it didn't look like I was about to topple over.

"I was shot you know," I said after a moments pause.

"I know," she said sounding a little befuddled. "I was there."

"Wounds don't heal that fast," I pointed out.

"What can I say? We have a good healer."

"She could do with anaesthetics," I muttered. "And I refuse to believe I was healed by magic."

Dee rolled her eyes and cast around for something. "Okay I'll prove it to you," she said grabbing a metal disk no bigger than a coin off the table beside my bed; I recognised it as the bullet I'd been shot with. "Watch." She frowned at the circle of lead and it leapt a good six inches into the air before stopping suddenly, simply hanging there wobbling slightly.

"I don't like to believe that's possible either," I told her honestly with maybe a hint of shell shock. For some reason it put me in mind of a good few of the stories I'd heard over the last ten years.

"Like and won't are two different things," she pointed out, looking very smug.

"Well, so much for the laws of physics," I sighed.

"Tell that to Taimi. She'll tear you apart and use diagrams to do it." She let the bullet fall onto her palm and instantly flinched away with a barely suppressed yell, letting it drop to the floor where it smoked ominously for a moment.

"Okay, I didn't mean to do that," she admitted sheepishly, rubbing her palm as I put my hand over my eyes, smiling to myself.

"This where you live then?" I asked, looking around the room. It was actually quite a nice looking place, obviously about half of a round house with a dozen or so beds dotted along the outer wall and thick tree trunk protruding through the inner wall . It was almost depressing how comforting it looked; the sunlight was streaming through the windows and giving the wood a homely yellow glow. The walls had been painstakingly painted to make it look like plants were growing through the building and fresh bunches of what I can only assume were herbs were hung above every bed and arranged in strategic pots.

"Yep," Dee said brightly. "Well not me personally, I live about thirty trees down. This is the hospital slash Hope's house."

"There are a lot of you then?" I asked after another moments pause while I digested that information.

"Over a hundred and fifty now. Actually that reminds me, Dat wanted to see you when you woke up, Sora probably wants to change your drip too." She rose to go and I glanced over my other shoulder, kicking myself for not noticing the catheter snaking into my wrist.

"Why does a post apocalyptic society have drips?" I asked the universe in general.

"You think you can't loot hospitals?" she said sarcastically, pausing at the door next to the trunk. "Now don't go anywhere."

I rolled my eyes, like I was getting up after a major gunshot wound; besides I was fairly sure that we weren't at ground level as I could see branches though the windows and I lacked the right limbs to get to the ground. I lay back sighing. This was just too unreal and strangely ironic. I had hoped that someone had rebuilt society, but I should have specified that they were human.

A second door cracked open and Hope poked her head around the door, looking cautiously around for something or other. She snuck over and I sat back up, pulling the sheet around me, I've really got to ask what happened to my shirt.

"Something wrong?" I asked her.

"Not as such," she replied quietly and looked nervously around. "And besides that's my question. But I err… well I…" She tailed off.

"Yes?" I cut in after the silence began to stretch.

"When I was healing you I noticed you had a lot of the nasty lumps," she said in a rush.

My turn to go, "err?"

"The wrong things that grow inside people," she clarified, staring at me with an unnerving intensity.

"Cancer?" I asked in shock, literally feeling my heart skip a beat.

"That's it," she said in a disturbingly bright tone. "Dat said I shouldn't do anything until you guys spoke but I've got this really good idea how to stop you getting any more."

"At all?" I was flabbergasted by that, then again unless I'd been delirious earlier, and that was a possibility, she'd already cured a major gunshot wound so I guess anything was possible.

"Well no more that anyone else," she admitted.

"What are you waiting for then?"

"Now you can't tell anyone about this," she whispered, taking my arm and looking right into my eyes with deadly seriousness. "I'd get in so much trouble if anyone found out."

"I promise," I told her, holding up my free hand.

"All done then," she said brightly, springing away, all trace of seriousness lost just as Dee came back through the door in a rush.

"Going to get Dat now," she announced, sweeping across the room and letting her wings unfurl. "And Hope, your mom says stop whatever it is you're doing and help her in the kitchen."

Hope back away from me sheepishly and then bolted. Dee paused at the door and then wandered over.

"Don't worry about Dat," she assured me which only made me more anxious. "He acts tough but he is really fine deep down." She hesitated a moment. "Well he'll probably be fine. It depends on how much the Eraser attack has got everyone riled up."

"Thanks for that," I said with yet another sigh.

"You're welcome." She stepped onto the cabinet and threw herself out of the window, purely for effect I suspect.

I sighed and once again flopped back onto the pillows. Today was really not my day and by the looks of things it was going to get worse before it got better. I didn't particularly want to meet the leader of a tribe of these distinctly un-human people, and I was already beginning to question the wisdom of letting Hope do whatever it was that she had done.

Yep, it was one of those days where it really didn't pay to get out of bed.


	14. Out of the Frying Pan

Out of the Frying Pan - Michael

"So," Dat began, crossing his arms in front of him and somehow managing to loom while sitting down. "Why are you back?"

I was really glad I'd managed to get a clean set of clothes off Sora. There's no way you can deal with a serious problem from bed. Admittedly I had just moved to sitting on top of the bed and was wearing my blooded flack jacket to block out the draught caused by the missing shirt back, but there was nothing I could particularly do about that.

"Me personally, or humanity in general?" I asked with a slight grin, trying in vain to lighten the atmosphere. He just looked at me.

"Fine," I said grimly, mimicking the crossed arms. "We're back partly for hope for the future, but mostly because we only have about a year's food left. If humanity doesn't start coming out of its bunkers now it's going to die out. That's why we're back."

"That's reasonable I suppose," Dat admitted at length. "Why now though?"

"Why not?" I asked with a shrug. "Ten years is a long time for even a nuclear winter to last, and I have no idea how many half lives it's been, enough that Earth is survivable again. Though apparently it was more survivable than we thought." I gestured around the room at this point. I was slightly bitter about being shut up in a bunker for so long when the world had already gotten back to normal but hopefully it didn't show.

"Don't bet on it," Dat muttered and then addressed me again. "Why after ten years?"

"I don't know," I said with another shrug. "Symbolism maybe?"

"You know that means that Zap was right," Dee cut in, appearing at the window and making me jump.

"Dee!" Dat snapped, whirling. "If you're going to eavesdrop don't join the bloody conversation. And especially don't bring up the last time you were eavesdropping."

"Am I getting tips or being chewed out?" she asked in a gratingly bright tone.

"Just get in here," he growled. "You've completely ruined the impression."

"You can't play the evil interrogator thing anyway," she told him, scrambling through the window. Personally I thought he could quite well but wasn't going to mention that. "Besides terrifying some kid is not very leaderly."

"How old are you?" Dat asked me suddenly.

"Fourteen," I replied without thinking. "Why?"

"Oh, shut up," Dee fumed as Dat raised his eyebrows smugly and I felt that I'd been left out of the loop somewhat.

"Anyway," Dat said, suddenly addressing me. "How many more people do you have in this bunker?"

"About forty or so."

"And how many bunkers?"

"I don't know" I admitted shrugging. "In all honesty you guys probably know better than me, you haven't been underground for a decade. We might have some military maps somewhere but I've never seen them."

"And your heavily armed hunting squads?" he asked poignantly.

"Well I think you've meet those wolf monsters," I countered.

"If you wanted to defend yourself you wouldn't be wandering through unfamiliar territory," he pointed out.

"If we were smart we wouldn't be wandering through unfamiliar territory. And we were kind of on a rescue mission. One of people was kidnapped. Incidentally you wouldn't happen to know where the wolf monster camp is?"

"Do we?" Dee asked Dat suddenly and he once again glowered at her.

"No," he admitted darkly then turned back to me. "And your leader didn't particularly look like he was on a rescue."

"Leader?" I asked confused.

"Yeah, the guy with the eyes of a Feral. He and a half dozen others were skulking around the fields."

"Really?" Dee asked.

"Later," he growled at her.

"You mean Mitch?" I enquired, still a bit confused. "Sure he's has been ordering everyone around and had an odd look in his eyes since Stace died, but I wouldn't call him our leader."

I paused at that and thought about it for a moment.

"Okay, good call," I admitted. It was a bit scary but I could see where Dat was coming from with the whole Feral eyed thing. Neither looked like they cared for anything but destruction anymore.

"And finally, how well armed are you in this bunker?"

"Not well," I said hesitantly. "Two thirds of us were civilians with passes, and the others were more or less reserves. Plus I think Mitch cleared out most of the guns. Basically we're not any particular threat."

"I'll be the judge of that," Dat asserted. "Now give me a minute to think." He rose and walked silently to the other side of the room.

I don't care what Dee says, he freaks me out and I still haven't gotten used to the fact everyone has these huge bundles of feathers on their backs. It would feel good when I finally got back to humanity.

"Don't worry, okay?" Dee said comfortingly, sitting down next to me and putting her arm around my shoulder. "Dat acts tough but he's fine underneath."

"And in ear shot!" he called across the room and Dee winced.

"It'll be fine," she said, dropping her voice.

"With any luck," I sighed. "I really just want to go home now."

We dropped into silence. I was feeling really tired for some reason, maybe it was the major gunshot wound, or maybe it was just my brain's response to the unreality of the situation.

"Okay I've decided," Dat announced, returning. "Michael you're free to go, just try and convince your people that we aren't a threat and warn them about the Erasers. With any luck they'll have moved on in a few days but don't take any chances, okay?"

"Sure."

"Dee," he said, rounding on her. "Escort Michael back to the bunker."

"Seriously?" she asked in disbelief.

"I'd like to keep this quiet," he explained. "At least until this Eraser business has quieted down. I'm not sure how people are going to react while they're all riled up like this. And that does imply that you shouldn't go blabbering to everyone about this."

"Why Dat, I'm insulted," Dee said theatrically, and Dat rolled his eyes.

"Humans aren't that popular then?" I hazarded.

"Nope" Dat said grimly. "And for more reasons that just the obvious. That's why I'd like you out of here before someone manages to injure themselves, which should be within about two minutes."

"Being prophetic now?" Dee asked.

"No, pattern recognition. Now if you wouldn't mind." He gestured towards the door.

"Pillar of patience you are," Dee said rolling her eyes and helped me too my feet.

I staggered a bit but stayed more or less upright. My side was still throbbing but that was more disturbing than painful; every ounce of common sense was telling me that it should hurt like nothing on earth and I should quite possibly be dead. I was rather glad I wasn't dead but I was still looking forward to getting back to a semblance of normalcy, and possibly sleeping until the next judgement day.

"I got you," she assured me, looping her arm beneath mine and supporting me far more than should be necessary. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I be fine," I said, shaking my head to clear the spots hovering in front of my eyes.

Dee shot Dat a dirty look but he just shrugged and we began to hobble towards the door. Actually I was beginning to feel a little better by the time we reached the door so I'll put it down to circulation or simply give up of rationalising things; I'd just been healed by a six year old after all.

The vertigo came back in a rush as we stepped out onto the balcony and I suddenly realised that we really were quite high.

"Maybe I should stay for a bit," I suggested hurriedly, disentangling myself from Dee and backing back through the door. "I'm still kind of dizzy."

"You said you were fine," she pointed out, sounding a little exasperated.

"Bullet wound," I snapped back, backing away from the windows too. I'd know academically that we were in a tree house, however I hadn't quite realised just how far the ground was from us. How they can live in tree houses is beyond me. What if the floor collapsed? You'd fall to your death.

"Hope," she countered. "What's wrong with you anyway?"

"It's a long way down, okay!"

That made her pause for a moment.

"You're afraid of heights?" she asked incredulously.

"I don't know," I half yelled. "Probably! I've lived underground all my life. When was I supposed to get used to it? And you guys have got wings anyway, why would you be afraid of heights?"

There was another pause where Dee tried to follow that and I caught my breath. "Well I think you've covered all the responses," she admitted.

Dat put his hand comfortingly on my shoulder and I only tensed more. "Don't worry," he said, the calm radiating from his voice and very slowly he began to walk me back towards to balcony. "It's really very simple. Just stop. Take a deep breath and think. Suddenly you won't be afraid."

We paused at the lip of the balcony. The ground was still very far away but after a deep steadying breath I could more or less rationalise it. I wasn't going to fall. There was no chance it was going to come rushing up to meet me in a very fatal fashion.

"Better now?" he asked.

"A little," I admitted.

"Good. Don't yell by the way."

"Wh…" I began just as his grip shifted and I found myself hurled out into empty space.

For a brief moment I was too shocked to thing anything beyond _"he pushed me!"_ but then the ground was rushing to great me and panic began to set in. The only reason I didn't yell was because he'd told me not to and my brain was too busy just then to realise how stupid that rational was.

I closed my eyes before I hit. If I imaged really hard maybe I wouldn't go splat on the forest floor but instead drift wherever my brain decided to take me to get away from that place. After imagining nothing but falling for a couple of seconds I opened my eyes and found myself staring into the sky. Definitely not falling. Actually it felt more like I was resting on a plain of glass.

Dee landed next to me, hoisted me off the whatever it was and set me gently on my feet.

"Okay," I said slowly, looking around for a reason why I wasn't a me shaped pancake and totally failing to find one, or even what it was I was resting on. "What the hell just happened?"

"We've been over the telekinesis," Dee said as if that explained everything. "And we were planning to use a rope ladder. I thing Dat's just a little overworked, there's been something like a dozen Eraser sightings today."

"I could have used a ladder," I protested indignantly, then the first part of her statement sunk in. "Wait, you mean he can lift a person?"

"Sure, I'm pretty bad at that kind of stuff to tell the truth."

"And Dat?"

"Average."

"Oh good," I sighed, mentally chalking up another one up against humanity. "Well that explains how you guys survived anyway."

"Actually we didn't have those sorts of powers back then," she explained. "But that's not too relevant just now. Anyway, how are you really feeling?"

"Surprisingly better," I admitted. "Adrenalin's funny like that."

"Ready to go then?"

"Definitely." I more than ever wanted to be back in my own bed.

We set off at a slow walk, mostly because I wasn't sure I could keep up at a faster pace and in under a minute of silence I asked. "So how did you guys survive the end of the world then?"

"That's quite a long story," she said, chewing her lip.

"How far's the bunker from here?"

"Three miles."

"Plenty of time then."

"Oh yeah, walking," she said with a touch of resignation. "Okay then, we might as well begin at the beginning…"


	15. Safe and Sound

Safe and Sound - Michael 

I was pretty out of it by the time we got to the bunker, knowing my luck I was probably catching some kind of mutant super bug, and so it was more just Dee talking at me by the end. That's not to say I wasn't listening but my responses had more or less petered out.

Actually it was fairly amazing how they'd managed to survive the end of the world. Set free by a group of what I can only assume were scientists, Dee called them White Coats, they had little knowledge of the outside world and absolutely no idea what fallout even was. In my opinion it was remarkable that they lasted a week. Apparently they as a species have an incredible resistance to radiation, and while everyone else was still in their shelters they were already scavenging supplies. Apparently Dat had even had the foresight to start stockpiling.

I did have a certain admiration for the people who'd created them, even though Dee had no particular love for these scientists. Still, you've got to respect their craftsmanship in making a race perfectly adapted to surviving against the odds, also their selflessness in making a species that would survive while they would not. I would have liked to meet them in all honesty, even if it was just to get them to explain the bloody telekinesis. Heck, my dad did genetic research he may have even have met some of them.

Anyway, apparently humanity didn't do very well, even for those who were at least mildly prepared, half were dead in a fortnight and a good chunk of the rest followed within a month for various reasons ranging from radiation sickness to starvation. She told me that the bird people had tried to help a little but when there's a world dying, there is very little a group of a hundred and fifty or so can do. Eventually you just have to throw in the towel and look after your own.

A few enclaves did make it into their second year, but with the nuclear winter preventing anything but the hardiest plants growing they died out due to lack of supplies. Even the bird people struggled to find food, having to foray deep into blast zones to find supplies. Roving Eraser packs didn't help humanity's chances of survival either.

I did manage to raise quite a few questions about the Erasers. Seemingly they were experiments by the same scientists that made the bird people and had mostly been used as hired muscle. Personally I thought they sounded more like a super soldier project but obviously they'd been looked over in favour of nuclear weapons. Still they'd been humanity's undoing and had been steadily multiplying ever since the end of the world. Apparently they'd looked quite humanoid to begin with, but six generations of inbreeding had made the majority stupid, violent and more like wolf than man, hence you got the monstrosities such as the Ferals. Dee had been under the impression that they had died out in recent years as remaining food supplies ran out but apparently they were still up and kicking and, in my opinion, going for the biggest concentration of food in the whole world. A working society.

Somehow I doubted that the bird kids were going to go down easy though.

"This is where you live?" Dee asked, cocking an eyebrow as we stepped out of the forest and she saw the shadowed doors of the bunker for the first time.

"The emphasis was on the living, not the aesthetics," I explained, exhaustion in my voice though I don't think Dee particularly picked up on it.

"I was just saying," she said defensively. "Anyway, how do you get inside, knock?"

I chuckled softly at the idea of trying to knock on a three foot thick door. "With luck the intercom's still working."

"Oh yeah. That would work," she admitted. "Anyway I can't see any Erasers, we should be clear." She loaded up her crossbow as she said this, freaking me out as she cocked it with telekinesis. There was something decidedly unsettling about seeing a weapon essentially load itself even if I did know Dee was responsible.

"Sure?" I asked with due caution.

"We've got good eyes," she replied with a shrug.

"Okay then."

We walked cautiously across the square of asphalt. I was particularly jumpy, mostly because the last time I'd tried to get into the bunker I'd been shot at. Nothing happened though. Nothing leapt out of the woods towards us and not a sound was to be heard made save for birdsong somewhere off in the trees and the blood beginning to pound in my ears.

"You want to come in?" I asked after we'd gotten into the shadow of the Bunker's doorframe and I'd relaxed slightly.

"Don't know," she admitted, chewing her lip. "How heavily armed will they be?"

"Reasonably I suppose. Everyone's kind of on edge at the moment."

"And how receptive to non human strangers?" she asked poignantly.

"Probably not very," I acknowledged, getting her point.

"I'll visit next time."

"Actually I don't blame you."

"Stop by some time though," she told me, shaking to unfurl her wings. "At the very least speak to Hope for a check-up."

"Probably a good idea," I admitted. "Anyway have a good flight."

"I'll give it a shot," she said, flashing a grin and accelerating across the parking lot.

"See ya' later!" she roared over her shoulder as she ripped into the air and I waved goodbye as she skimmed over the trees. It was an impressive sight, especially as I'd never seen even a sparrow fly before, and I'd been a little distracted all the other times she'd been in the air. It was amazing that something of such grace could come about from the end of the world and as I watched her soar into the sky I couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy.

I sighed and press the intercom button, there was a long silence suddenly broken by the hiss of hushed whispering.

"Hello?" I asked tentatively, holding down the button again.

"Michael!" A voice exclaimed, I couldn't really tell who it was; the intercom was the new definition of static. I did make me wonder how they knew it was me though. "Oh, thank God it's you. I'll open the…"

There was a brief pause and some more whispering.

"What?" the voice asked, obviously not addressing me. "Why?"

More whispering.

"Oh fine. Michael, north corridor, second door on the right, coming from the main entrance, what is it?"

"The nursery," I answered nonplussed. "Used to be the main store room but we converted it when the supplies were used up. Why?"

"Satisfied!" the voice snapped, again not at me. "Okay, I'm opening the doors now."

The doors slid open with agonising slowness but at least this time I wasn't being shot at and the only thing bothering me was my headache building up to a crescendo.

My mom rugby tackled me as the final door slammed shut behind me, lifting me bodily, holding me tight and ruffling my hair in the manner I thought she'd grown out of years ago.

"Mom," I whined, not really resisting.

"You're safe," she murmured, setting me back on my feet but not letting go. "Thank heavens your safe. I thought I'd lost you."

"Where are the others?" Dr Stevenson asked suddenly, stepping out from the throng of anxious faces.

"Erm," I began slowly, thinking of Dee and all the others, plus my fairly miraculous recovery. "That's a very long story."


	16. Into the Fire

Into the Fire - Michael

It was rather a shock to everyone when I passed out, especially to me. One moment I was sitting in the infirmary nursing a cup of ice water, mostly to ease my pounding headache, next I was waking up on a very uncomfortable bed, a bright light shinning in my eyes.

I moaned softly, half attempting to brush the light out of my eyes but only managing to shrug my shoulder a little. The still conscious part of my brain tried to do a stock check, I had most definitely fainted and that implied that I'd either come down with some disease or worse reopened my wound. The former was probably more likely as most of my body couldn't decide whether it was hot or cold, and the rest had just given up entirely and said 'in pain'.

Where was I though?

I cracked open an eye and was almost blinded by the blazing light above my head as my eye seemed to fail to contract. I slammed it shut again.

Okay, well that at least told me where I was. The observation room, an eight by four block of concrete designed to isolate patients whose disease is unknown, something that's vital for a fallout bunker. I've stated many times that radiation doesn't produce mutants, it kills people. Pathogens, however, produce mutants which then proceed to kill people, and if I was in the observation room then my chances were not looking good.

"Michael?" a voice crackled into life over the intercom and I moaned. "Michael, can you hear me?"

I groaned again, louder this time and rolled my head enough to open my eyes without getting blinded. I could just make out Dr Stevenson and my mom behind the mirrored glass, both looking extremely anxious, also not a very good sign.

"Michael."

I really wished he would stop repeating my name.

"You appear to have come down with something."

Thanks, I figured that out already.

"We've given you as much medicine as we can. Just stay strong and you'll be fine."

And there was another bad sign; they didn't know what was wrong with me.

"Honey, I'm going to be right here with you," my mom cut in anxiously, snatching the microphone.

That was nice to know. Though the thought of responding didn't occur to me at the time, my brain was feeling funny for some reason. I let my eyes slide shut again ignoring the urge to shiver all over and the throbbing in my back.

I fell in and out of consciousness for the rest of what felt like an eternity but was actually just the rest of the night. I don't believe my mom left the little room for the whole time, though I was so out of it most of the time I couldn't even focus, let alone confirm the steady whisper through the speakers was hers.

All I know is I woke up in silence.

Instantly I knew something was very wrong, and yet I had this moment of overwhelming clarity, I knew I had to get out, and that was all. I also knew that there was no way I should be feeling perfectly fine after having whatever disease I contracted but for some reason that paled into insignificance against the fact that I **had** to get out.

I sat up suddenly and swung my legs off the bed, ignoring the ache in my back. At some point I'd have to get them to put pillows on the bed but first things first. I stood up slowly, ignoring the fact that every joint I owned cracked at the same moment, and walked slowly over to the two-way mirror. The observation room was empty. I couldn't actually see through the glass, someone had turned out the interior light, but I just knew.

I shook my head sadly and wandered over to the door. It was a one of those typically overblown things that infest the bunker, two foot of solid steel complete with mechanical dead locks and utterly impervious from the inside. I laid my hand on the door and then pulled away, dragging the door as if it were glued to my palm and stepping back neatly as it swung into the room.

"What the…" a shocked voice exclaimed as I glided through the doorway and I looked round to see Julian looking at me disbelief. "How?" he began and then seemed to see something in my eyes. "Alarm!"

Pandemonium broke out a few seconds later as people burst out into the corridor, many carrying weapons, all yelling, trying to find out what was going on. I began to walk serenely down the corridor towards the main doors, ignoring the commotion all around me until someone clapped their hand on my shoulder and I whirled around. Dr Stevenson was holding me back, looking both amazed and worried at the same time.

"Michael," he said soothingly. "You should be resting." The anxious undertone completely jarred with the rest of his demeanour though, ruining the effect.

"I've got to get out," I told him simply. It was a statement more than anything else.

"And I can't let you do that."

He slammed against the wall as I turned back around and kept walking, unheeding of the dead silence that had descended, parting the crowds before me.

"Michael, what are you doing?" my mother asked, as I stepped out into the main chamber. There was fear in her eyes and she stood alone in front of the silent throng but I couldn't figure out what was scaring her so badly.

"Michael?" she asked again, I acknowledged her but didn't stop on my steady march.

"Michael, stop," she pleaded and I heard an almost imperceptible click of a cocking hammer as someone pointed a gun at me. I flipped the safety on without looking round.

I reached the doors and laid a hand on them, briefly contemplating how to get them open.

"It's a dead end," Dr Stevenson hissed and I turned slowly to see him standing in one of the doorways, clutching his side. The entire Bunker was watching me now; I could feel every one of their eyes drilling into me, filled with a mixture of shock and fear. Quite a few of them were pointing guns at me.

"You need the key," he completed triumphantly. "Now come along quietly and we can figure out how to get you better."

"I just need to get out," I said, shrugging by flaring the tips of my wings. Someone tried to pull a trigger but all the safety catches were on by that point. I turned my back on them as the first door began to crawl open. "That's all."

I ducked under the rising door and let it slam shut behind me, loosing my control on their guns and wincing as I heard a shot ring out.

I was standing out in the cool pre dawn air before I knew it, feeling the wind playing through my flight feathers for the very first time. Just for a moment, that felt horribly wrong, but it passed and I hurled myself into the sky.


	17. End of the World

End of the World - Dee

"What the hell did you do?" Michael roared.

I leapt out of bed with a yell, hitting the floor hard and somehow managing to turn it into a roll. I sprung onto the balls of my feet, flaring my wings for balance and sent my crossbow soaring into my outstretched hand, finally looking to see who was yelling.

"Michael?" I said in shock, seeing him outlined against the pre dawn sky with murder in his eyes. What was more surprising though was the fact that he was squatting deftly on the windowsill and two masses of feathers could clearly be seen behind his back.

"Um…?" I began.

"I'll say it again," he said again with deathly calm. Emphasis on the death. "What. The hell. Happened?"

"At a guess I'd say you got wings." I didn't lower my crossbow for some reason, it wasn't loaded but it at least felt like it offered some protection.

"Yeah, I noticed!" he bellowed, back to shouting. "I particularly noticed when I came to my senses five hundred feet above the ground after flipping out and attacking everyone I know!"

There was a pause and I said the first thing that came into my head.

"You were flying? I thought you were afraid of heights?"

To great effect.

Michael stopped dead in his tracks and I watched in morbid fascination as the blind rage on his face was slowly replaced by sheer terror. Then he screamed.

My door slammed open and I whirled to see Jaz rush in, tugging on a dressing gown, closely followed by Zap who had his home made coil gun in hand.

"What on Earth is going…" she began but then spotted Michael and after a fraction of a second's hesitation, six daggers materialized by her shoulders, their points pointed right at Michael and humming slightly.

"I don't know you," she declared quietly, as Michael stopped yelling and stared right into the dagger points. He probably should have been more worried about Zap's coil gun going off accidentally, but six shards of steel pointed at your face tend to attract attention.

"Jaz relax," I said in the best soothing tone I could manage and stood up between her and Michael. It didn't help. The daggers just drifted to the left and right so as to have a clear shot and besides I knew full well Jaz could curve them around me mid flight so it was kind of a pointless gesture anyway.

"He's…" I paused again, thinking of the best way to put it. "Well… He's one of the humans." I opted for honesty, mostly as the second best option was 'a time traveller'.

Jaz took a deep breath and I felt a faint pressure pushing me to one side, out of her line of fire. Nothing I could do now but watch.

"You don't particularly look like a human to me," she said, fixing him with a cold stare which kind of lost its impact as he was attempting to watch all the knives at once.

"Yeah," he agreed, not losing the rabbit in headlights look. "I'd have to agree with you there."

"Care to explain how you now have wings?"

"I'd like that to be explained too." You have to admire someone who can stand up to Jaz when she's doing her all powerful psychic impression. Except it's not an impression.

"Dee?" Jaz asked and I quailed slightly. "What aren't you telling me?"

"We might have met before," I admitted. "I don't know about the wings though, nor why he's here specifically."

"You pointed out your house on the way back," he murmured as an explanation. "I just went for the first place that came to mind. Come to think of it, how did I find this place? Can you guys Home?"

"Actually yeah," Zap cut in brightly and I saw Jaz visibly slump. "It's really odd but we appear to have a natural lodestone in our heads, or at least you get a headache if you put a strong enough magnet against your skull. Though if you were human then it's interesting…"

"Honey," Jaz sighed. "Later perhaps."

"Sorry."

"And could you put that damn thing down before I have to stop the slug."

"It's not actually plugged in," he pointed out, shouldering the weapon and Jaz and I visibly relaxed. Zap's inventions tended to go off without warning; he been banned utterly from bringing another of his cookers into the house after the infamous Version Four.

"As we're on the subject of weapons," Michael broached cautiously. "Would you mind lowering the daggers?"

"Sure," Jaz said shrugging and the daggers seemed to flash out of existence. If you were a much better psychic than I, you'd know that she actually just moves them faster than the eye can follow but to a casual observer they just seem to vanish into thin air. It's far less impressive when you know two of those knives' primary use is to chop vegetables and they are all kept in a block on the kitchen counter but still, Michael was impressed. Or maybe he was just glad that imminent pointy death was no longer aimed at him.

"Right," Jaz sighed, crossing her arms in front of her. "I'm going to go get Dat. I shouldn't be the only one to get woken up for this. You…" She pointed at Michael and waited for a response.

"Michael," he supplied.

"Michael. Stay here. And Zap keep an eye on him. Flo's still asleep for now and I plan to keep it that way. So no making too much noise."

Zap saluted and Jaz rolled her eyes before leaving in a rush, muttering something.

"She'll be fine when the sun actually rises," Zap explained and looked Michael up and down. "Rough day?" he asked casually.

"You don't know the half of it," Michael answered with certainty that only comes from someone having a really bad time of it.

"Why are you still on the window sill anyway?" I asked, putting my crossbow back down on the bed side table and then wandering over to him.

"My legs have cramped," he explained sheepishly.

I really shouldn't have laughed but still, it was funny.

"Just help me down already," he snapped.

"Spoil sport," I said brightly and lifted him down from the ledge. Compared to earlier he was definitely lighter, it looked like he'd gotten the whole package with the wings though I was not going to break it to him just how inhuman his biology now was. I mean, we don't even have similar lungs to humans and the twins have been arguing for years that our brains work in completely differently.

"Happier now?" I asked as he sunk onto my bed.

"Not really," he admitted, sighing. "It's been a rough couple of days. I take it Jaz is one of the more powerful psychics you mentioned."

"She's in the top twenty," I explained with a shrug, sitting down next to him and Zap shifted closer looking uneasy.

"Err, Dee," he cut in. "Perhaps you shouldn't be telling him this. He is a… well was, a human."

Michael visibly stiffened at that comment, though possibly it was over the past tense to his humanity than any insult.

"Dat already said he wasn't a threat," I protested.

"Well that as may be, but that was before… well, you know. This."

"In all honesty," Michael said suddenly, staring at his shoes. "After that display, do you really think there is any way I can be dangerous."

"And he's been underground for ten years," I cut in, leaping to his defence. "Lilly could beat him in a fight." And just so you know Lilly's six. Don't tell Michael though.

"But he's… human," Zap protested weakly and Michael just looked at him with mournful eyes. I glared at him.

"I suppose that is a little irrational," Zap admitted and after an uneasy silence where Michael went back to looking at his feet. "I should probably go check on Flo."

"And maybe test your psychic detector?" I suggested, purely to keep him away longer.

"Good idea," he said, brightening suddenly and bustled out. That would keep him occupied for a few minutes at least.

"Doing okay there, Michael?" I asked with my best possible smile.

"As well as could be expected," he admitted with a sigh and a shrug. He then looked at his arm in confusion. "Have my shoulders changed?" he asked suddenly.

"Probably." I tugged one of his wings open and he yielded easily, possibly because had no experience in moving them. "These things require a lot of support." It was quite a nice wing, a russet red with the trimmings for manoeuvrability, rather than mine which are more endurance oriented, and probably from a hunting hawk. It was quite impressive to think that they'd grown in under twelve hours and really made me wonder how the hell that could be possible.

"Okay, that feels really weird," he said, hurriedly pulling his wing back in and completely mis-folding it.

"What's it like to suddenly have wings anyway?" I asked conversationally.

"Like suddenly getting another pair of arms," he said flexing them slightly. "Uncomfortable arms with no fingers."

"That's just because you've got them folded all wrong," I pointed out helpfully, gently pulling his wing into a more natural position.

An explosion suddenly shook the room and Michael leapt to his feet, flaring his wings as he did so, whacking one into the wall and sending me flying with the other. Well at least I knew he had the wing muscles.

"That came from The Bunker," he said sounding shocked, and I had to agree with him. It definitely wasn't one of Zap's explosions anyway, they tend to be less earth shattering and immediately followed by an 'I didn't mean to do that!'

Michael made a run for the window and I scrambled to my feet. "Where do you think you're going?" I asked indignantly as he vaulted through the frame and fortunately landed on the balcony.

"The Bunker!" he yelled over his shoulder and leapt off the side, completely failing to unfurl his wings and dropped like a rock.

"No!" I roared, throwing myself through the window after him and managing to kick of the sill as I did so, wrenching open my wings and tearing after him.

Michael smashed through a tree limb which it looked like he tried to grab, but the kid obviously knew nothing about falling with style and I had to barrel roll to avoid losing a wing on the tree. He knew he was in trouble at that point, as he began flailing around for another hand hold and just as I was swooping down to catch him, finally managed to flare his wings. Of course he managed to do that while almost standing in mid air and so the wind caught in his wings and managed to flip him over backwards, right into my arms.

I hooked my elbows under his armpits on pure reflex and felt my shoulders wrench as I went hurtling over his head, completely losing my air-foil and sending us spinning head over heels towards the ground. Through luck or sheer skill on my part, I managed to stiffen my wings enough that we only hit the ground at bone shaking speed, rolling over and over in a ball of crushed limbs and flying feathers. At some point I lost hold of Michael and he went flying over my head to land hard on the forest floor.

I lay stunned, looking up at the pre dawn sky though the canopy and the gaps between the houses.

"Every time we meet, I end up crashing," I groaned, clasping my hand over my eyes and then heard a scrabbling behind me.

"Hey!" I exclaimed, rolling over and seeing Michael running off into the woods. "What do you think you're doing?"

"What do you think?" he called over his shoulder and I swore softly to myself, leaping back to my feet and ignoring the various aches I'd picked up.

"At least wait for me!" I snapped, sprinting to catch up and rapidly devouring the ground between us.

"They could be in danger," He retorted as I drew level.

"It's a bunker," I protested. "They're designed to withstand a bloody nuke!"

"No! The fallout!" he corrected. "And that was a big enough bang to have done some serious damage."

"At least fly!" I yelled angrily. "It'll take forever if we run."

"Oh yeah, with these stupid things?" he exclaimed, flaring the tips of his wings and stumbling. "It would be faster to tunnel!"

"We could do a crash course!" I protested.

"Emphasis on crash!" He put his head down and accelerated. I rolled my eyes and kept pace.

We burst out into the bunker's parking lot a whole fifteen minutes later. Well I say parking lot, it had been replaced with a ten foot deep crater and rubble had completely demolished the surrounding forest. A few car skeletons lay around the site, twisted almost beyond recognition and I spotted Dat, Jaz and a few others who were up at this time of day laying out papers on one of the flatter wrecks.

The doors had been literally torn to shreds. I could just about make out that there had been three originally. The furthest looked like it had been torn apart but some insane hand and the next resembled something that a tank had driven through, but the outer door simply wasn't there. What I could see of the inside of the bunker didn't look any better; the walls were blackened and had deep gouges torn by pieces of shrapnel as big as my head, but worse there were bodies everywhere; human and Eraser alike.

Michael stopped dead in his tracks.

"No," he whispered in disbelief and horror and I skidded to a stop next to him, struck dumb by the sheer devastation. Sure I've seen places that got a full blast from a warhead, but I'd never seen anywhere that had been full of life just a few hours before. Even the birds seemed to have fled.

I gagged as the wind carried the stench of death across the ruined lot and someone finally spotted us. Michael began to stagger forwards as if sleepwalking and I went to follow him, fighting to keep the contents of my stomach _in_ my stomach, and felt a resistance ahead of me. Catching Jaz's eye I stumbled to a stop but Michael keep on going, gaining speed as he ran and was practically sprinting by the time he entered the bunker.

"What happened?" I asked, still sounding completely shell shocked, wandering over to Dat and Jaz.

"Erasers," Dat explained. "We managed to chase them off bfut the damage was already done."

"Survivors?" I asked, not expecting a happy answer.

Dat shook his head. "None save the one you brought."

"I should go find him."

"Probably wise," Dat admitted.

I walked slowly through the devastation, humbled by the death and desperately trying not to breath through my nose. Outside the bunker there were only Eraser corpses, most felled by our own distinctive bolts, though one looked singed enough to have been caught in the blast, never trust an Eraser with TNT apparently. Inside was another matter, the Erasers looked like they'd been torn apart by gunfire, a lot of gunfire, but the people, well looked like they'd just been torn apart. Hopefully by the doors exploding. I carried on, fighting down my gall.

I followed my ears down the next corridor, all the human corpses here had guns and those that didn't looked like they'd had the guns taken after their deaths. The whole place had fought to the bitter end, I observed, as I picked my way around piles of Erasers. Of course when fighting Erasers there's little else you can do.

I walked past rooms that contained only dead bodies and pillaged shelves. It was clear what the Erasers had been after, food, and anything that got in the way was a target. I hurried past the room that looked like a nursery; there was no way I could bring myself to look inside. I doubted my imagination could be worse than reality.

I found Michael sobbing over the corpse of an older woman in a room that looked like a cross between an infirmary and miniature bunker with a two foot thick door. It had clearly been a last stand; there were a lot Eraser corpses around and the four corpses in the room had obviously fought valiantly. I just stood back from Michael as he knelt weeping, before eventually cracking and kneeling next to him, putting my arm around his shoulder. Never saying a word.


	18. Another Day

Another Day - Dee

"Everyone?" Robin asked in disbelief. "Wow. That's a raw deal."

"Tell me about it," I said sighing, leaning back in my chair and looking up at the gently swaying branches.

Robin and I were on herd duty, and it's about as riveting as it sounds. Basically there are two of you, up a tree, watching a herd of brain dead cattle chew cud in the nearby meadow and making sure the lights on the electric fence stay on. We were also supposed to be on the look out for anything that might be after the cows, such as Erasers, feral dogs and regular wolves but so far there had been two cases of that happening, six years ago. At least we had chairs, and a small platform, and a moth eaten parasol for some reason.

"How's the kid taking it?"

"Let's put it this way. I got him to say three consecutive words yesterday and that's the best anyone's managed for the last three days."

"Ouch," Robin said wincing. It was painfully little in the way of empathy but then I had absolutely no idea what the kid was going through either. The number of people in the village that had actually lost loved ones could be counted on one hand, and no one had ever lost everyone.

"And how about the wings?" he asked after a moment.

"Actually I think he's forgotten about those," I admitted. "It's not like he's moved enough to notice them. Besides, technically they saved his life."

"He's not going to react well to suddenly being not human though," Robin pointed out. "And you never explained how he got wings anyway."

"When I understand it, I'll let you know," I told him, laughing bitterly. "Hope said something about changing the way his 'self' feels so it was more red-y orange and less bitter tasting and I just gave up."

I'm not making this up by the way.

"That was shortly before she was grounded until her teens and just after she said she couldn't turn him back. On the plus side though she apparently got rid of any micro tumours he had."

"What's he like though?" Robin asked, leaning towards me a bit and betraying his eagerness.

I just groaned. I'd been being asked that for the last two days. Everyone wanted to meet the human for various reasons and Dat had eventually forbidden entry to our house, which simply redoubled the number of questions. Just why he's staying in our house I'm not one hundred percent sure; the only straight answer I got out of Dat was 'he seems to like you', which is about as useful as a blood feather.

"About as talkative as a lamp right now," I replied, giving my token response and Robin rolled his eyes.

"That's what everyone's saying," he pointed out.

"That's what I'm telling everyone," I countered with a grin. "Besides I've managed to get a better conversation out of the lamp." I'm not kidding about the lamp by the way. At least it doesn't emit a crushing depression when you try to talk to it.

"Oh come on," he chided. "We're friends aren't we? You can at least tell me something."

"What's there to say?" I asked shrugging. "Look, he's just a normal kid. Probably more normal than us by the human definition. The only real difference is how pasty he is and that's just because he's lived underground all his life, there's nothing sinister about him."

"So no, 'burn the world' attempts?" he queried, dropping into a stupidly deep voice as he said so and I snapped.

"He's about as threatening as the cows!" I exclaimed angrily. "Just about anyone could beat him in a fight. He can't fly. He's no more armed than we are, and doesn't have even a glimmer of telekinesis to boot. Compared to Kale or the twins he's a mouse and they're bloody lions. He is not a threat."

"You've been getting that a lot haven't you?" Robin asked after a moment, with a knowing grin.

"Why's everyone so antihuman?" I fumed. "What's this kid done to any of them?"

"Well, the White Coats tend to hang in everyone's minds," Robin pointed out.

"Yeah, but they were ages ag…"

"And don't forget the first human we met took a pot shot at us," he cut in.

"True but…"

"And the small wars we had with three of the neighbouring enclaves."

"Personal survival does…"

"And let's not forget the nuclear apocalypse."

"Okay!" I snapped. "So humans haven't exactly done much to endear themselves, but Michael wasn't even remotely involved in any of that stuff. Why judge him on the actions of others?"

"What, use objective evidence based on our own personal encounters?" he asked sarcastically.

"Point," I conceded. Isolation was probably breading more rumours than actually meeting the kid would. "But still he's not some freak to be paraded in front of the whole village."

"Shall I remind you of the fact he's now got wings?" he asked loftily and I just glared at him.

"It's a sad truth though," he continued, "people are going to act irrationally towards him. The White Coats left deep scars, and not just the visible ones. Humanity is a chapter that we would quite like to forget about."

"Robin you're being profound," I told him bluntly. "Stop it, you're freaking me out."

Robin's adoptive father is a bit of a philosopher and Robin has a tendency to quote. Or at least I hope he's quoting, some of the stuff he comes out with makes my head hurt.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly. "Still you've got to introduce him to the real world some time. It's not like anyone's going to try to burn him."

"I'm more worried about him rejecting the world than the world rejecting him," I admitted. "The outside world was not apparently what he was expecting. It was supposed to be dust and craters, not forests, cows and birdsong."

"You could show him the craters if he wants them so much," Robin suggested.

"Ah, but he wont fly," I countered. "Plus I think he's afraid of heights."

"Seriously?" he asked in disbelief and I just gave a 'tell me about it' look. "Throw him out a window then."

"I almost dislocated my arm the last time he jumped out a window," I told him grimly. "And I don't think that's exactly going to help him trust us."

"Well you need to do something," he declared. "I know I haven't actually met him but sitting around moping isn't good for anyone. If he's miserable, point out how stupid it is to be miserable."

"You know, he has lost everything," I said nonchalantly.

"Losing everything only means one thing," he countered. "There's nothing left to lose."

"Profound!" I cut in.

"Whatever!" he exclaimed. "It still stands that depression is not healthy and if no one else is going to cheer him up then it's your job to do something about it."

"My job?" I asked sceptically.

"Yes, your job. Of the people who meet him, Jasmine terrifies anyone who doesn't know her, Zap isn't exactly stable and Dat has a list of six more important things to do. Besides, he went to you for help. Not anyone else."

"He hadn't met anyone else," I protested. "Besides what am I supposed to do. He won't stop moping."

"Take his mind off it," Robin countered. "Do you know anything that requires total concentration or else you run the risk of going splat?"

"No I…" I began, then got what he was implying.

"Now that's evil," I said, a broad grin spreading across my face.

"It'll work though," he assured me.

"And you know what," I declared, standing up. "You're right. I'm going to shake him out of it right…"

"Dee," Robin cut in suddenly. "Our shift doesn't end for another hour and a half and I am not covering for you."

"But he's still sitting there wasting away," I protested.

"And will still be there when your shift is over," he completed.

"You're no fun anymore," I growled, sitting back down.

"It's called maturity," he said with a slight air of smugness. "You may need to look it up."

I stuck my tongue out at him and pulled a wing between us. "Growing up's for wusses," I teased.

Robin just raised his eyebrows. "Just look for the second star on the right," he told me.

That just netted him a blank look.

"Never mind," he sighed. "Let's talk about something else."

"Okay," I said brightly. "Did I mention I managed to bring down four Erasers the other day?"

Robin groaned.


	19. Flying Lessons

Flying Lessons – Michael

"Michael!" Dee roared, right next to my ear and I yelled in surprise, leaping off the sofa, tripping over my own feet and hitting the ground with a bang.

"What the hell are you doing?" I screamed angrily, trying to scramble to my feet and only succeeding in wrenching my wing, as I accidentally pinned it to the floor with my elbow. I'm still not used to these bloody things.

"Cheering you up," she said brightly, clambering over the sofa and hanging herself between the cushions and the back.

"This is not cheering me up," I snapped, sitting up and crunching my wings shut behind my back, glowering at her.

"You're not moping any more, are you?" she pointed out cheerfully.

"It's not moping it mourning," I corrected irritably. "Everybody I know died!"

"Moping won't bring them back," she countered.

"Yes! I know!" I roared. "But if you're expecting me just to forget they ever existed and flit around your blasted tree houses then you are going to be disappointed!"

"You two are going to be disappointed if my sonics slip and Flo wakes up!" Jasmine yelled from the kitchen and Dee and I winced in unison. Jasmine and Zap had been very generous in letting me stay in there house and 'don't wake the baby' is a universal social rule.

"Anyway," Dee continued in a hushed whisper, sliding down to sit in a more sensible position. "Were they really expecting you to do nothing but mope about them for the rest of your life?"

"Mourn," I corrected again, getting to my feet and dusting myself off. "And I suppose not. But still it's the principle of the matter; some tact might have been appreciated too."

"Tact isn't in my vocabulary," she assured me, and you know what? I believed her.

"It's just like everything's gone," I admitted, sitting down heavily next to her. "Probably because it has," I completed a moment later.

"Well, you're not gone," she countered.

"True. But then comes the survivor's guilt."

"Well, I guess wouldn't have any experience with that," she confessed sheepishly.

"Says the one who watched the world burn," I pointed out with a bitter chuckle.

"Hey," she protested. "I was four. I barely have three consecutive memories from the long winter, and none of them involve anything burning."

"Okay bad example," I conceded. "Still you guys can't have come through the end of the world without losing a few people."

"Not as many as you'd think," she explained, shrugging. "Only seven have died so far, three in the first two months and the rest over the years to Eraser attacks. It turns out we're actually pretty difficult to kill, especially now we have Hope."

I snorted in annoyance at the mention of Hope's name.

"You know she technically saved your life," Dee pointed out. "Not just with the bullet, but if you'd been in the bunker when the Erasers came knocking you'd be just as dead as the rest."

I grunted noncommittally. "If I hadn't broken out maybe the doors would have been strong enough to hold the Erasers off," I muttered half heartedly.

"Oh, come on," she chided. "You can't honestly believe that anything you did helped the Erasers. They used enough TNT to level a city block."

"Maybe I like feeling guilty," I countered darkly.

"Now that just doesn't make sense. If you liked feeling guilty you wouldn't be moping, you'd be happy, but as you aren't happy you must not like feeling guilty and so need something to distract you." She paused to take a breath and I struggled to keep up with her leaps in logic.

"That's why I've come up with the ultimate solution," she continued, getting up and then dragging me to my feet. "I'm going to take you flying."

"What!" I exclaimed in horror, trying and failing to pull against her. Unfortunately Dee's a good deal stronger than me. "That's not a solution to anything!"

"Sure it is," she countered brightly as I attempted to escape and she got me in an arm lock. "Just try to pull off some complicated tricks and if you think of anything else you'll die. Perfect distraction."

"This is going to kill me isn't it?" I asked, as she frogmarched me towards the kitchen.

"Nah, you'll be fine. We'll just do some simple stuff; maybe bug whoever's at the Flyball pitch."

"And did I mention I'm afraid of heights?" I asked, desperately trying to keep the panic out of my voice.

"Yeah, but you've got wings now," she countered dismissively. "You don't need to be afraid of the ground now." She paused a moment. "Well actually you still need to be afraid of the ground. But you're much less likely to hit it."

"You just _inspire_ confidence," I said snidely, as she pushed me into the kitchen.

"Zap gets that look when planning something insane too," Jasmine observed, sighing and juggling Flo into a more comfortable position.

"You could at least help," I snapped. "Instead of just sitting there."

"Insane and good are not mutually exclusive," she pointed out. "How high do you guys want to be launched anyway?"

"Not at all?" I suggested hopefully.

"As high as possible," Dee confirmed, still annoyingly cheery. She was enjoying this.

"You guys really are trying to kill me aren't you?" I asked as Dee went off to get her crossbow. I briefly contemplated running for it, but as leaving the house would involve flying that kind of defeated the purpose.

"Actually higher is safer," Jasmine explained, setting Flo gently down in a chair by the table and getting to her feet. "You have much longer to sort yourself out and after a certain point falling any further is pretty much redundant."

"Plus you can go over one hundred miles an hour with a good dive," Dee added reappearing, now armed.

"Dee, there was this great human invention," Jasmine said testily. "They called it tact. You might want to look it up."

"Never heard of it," she confirmed, grinning and Jasmine sighed.

"You'll be fine," Jasmine assured me. "Simple flight is as instinctive as walking. You're not going to hit the ground."

"I'm not going to hit the ground if I stay here," I countered.

"Says the one who was worried the floor would collapse," Dee shot back, grabbing my wing as she rushed past and almost pulled me off my feet.

"You still haven't convinced me that it won't," I snapped, as I was forced to follow her onto the balcony. I was serious about that. The floor didn't seem to be made of planks as such, more thousands of short boughs that had been smoothed into something resembling a floor. I had asked but the answer was 'telekinesis', which wasn't actually that helpful.

"Oh don't be silly," Dee chided. "You've tangled with Ferals. This is easily only a third as dangerous."

"Stop teasing him Dee!" Jasmine yelled through the door and suddenly I felt like I had all over pins and needles, something that tends to happen just before anyone does something particularly weird. "Now are you ready?"

"Yes," Dee confirmed.

"No," I said weakly, not really expecting to be paid attention to.

The wind exploded in my ears and suddenly the forest was dwindling beneath us. It's apparently a testament to just how good Jasmine is that I didn't even feel the acceleration. Of course I'd rather have kept my feet firmly on the ground, but getting back to the ground was not going to be a problem. The speed I was going when I hit would be though.

"Now diving is very simple," Dee yelled over the roar of the wind and I felt us beginning to slow down. "Your wings give you a different centre of gravity, so you should fall head first but if you do get the wrong way up just swing your legs and you'll be fine."

"Shouldn't you be telling me how to fly?" I shouted over the wind and then realised it was practically nonexistent.

"Diving comes first," she said with a shrug as I felt my stomach sink and I realised that we'd run out of up. "Besides I've got over a kilometre to teach you that."

I looked down at the trees below, they were amazingly small, I couldn't even make out the houses. Actually I could, as my eyes seem to have been upgraded as well, but I'm refusing to admit that on principle, so all I could make out was a few glints from the solar panels nestled in the foliage. It was surprisingly peaceful up so high. I could literally see for miles and there was nothing but green, save for the sparse human ruins that had been my old town. It looked so insignificant from up here.

The wind was beginning to pick up again as I accelerated towards the ground and I realised that I was failing lesson one and falling feet first. Woops. I tried swinging my legs to right myself as completely failed to do anything except rock a little.

I tried again. Still nothing.

At that point I started flailing.

"Relax Michael!" Dee yelled, appearing beside me, wings folded back and just about staying level with my plummet. "Try and swing your whole body around, not just your legs."

"What does that even mean?" I snapped back, throwing my weight around once again and just managing to send me into a slow lateral spin.

"Oh, let me do it," she sighed, flicking herself towards me and grabbing my leg and shoulder then threw me round so I was falling head first. Given the view I got of the ground I would have preferred just to keep falling feet first, but I suppose I had been struggling to keep my wings closed.

"Right!" she roared, flicking away from me. "Now flare those wings!"

I sighed, then realised that I had about twenty seconds until I hit and I very much doubted Dee was going to rescue me if I didn't do anything. Well, I suppose it was no use fighting it, besides I think I managed to lose my fear of heights about a mile back. I took a deep steadying breath and spread my wings.

The wind caught me like a hammer blow and I felt my self go spiralling out of control, loosely pulling up but more falling into a crazy spin that flipped me over and over before I slammed my wings shut again, resuming my plummet.

"Good try!" Dee shouted, pulling along side me. "Now try and get a bit more coordination or you'll just… well do that again!"

I nodded grimly; there wasn't really time to say anything. I was trying to run the numbers in my head but it basically added up to, 'you're going to hit the ground pretty soon'. Dee flickered away again and I closed my eyes, just concentrating for a moment. If I blocked out all the sound out it really was quite serene, apart from the imminent death of course.

I opened my wings in a rush, letting my arms go with them and fought the wind to keep them open, feeling the ache across my chest as I pulled up rapidly, and heaved a sigh of relief as the tree tops finally stopped hurrying to meet me.

"Nice," Dee said, pulling along side of me and I beamed back. "But if you'd done that two seconds later you would have just skimmed the treetops."

"I'm fine with what I did, thanks," I told her shakily, knowing there was a silly grin on my face and not caring. I'll just blame the adrenaline rush. It was actually really weird supporting yourself on what feels like just your arms, and if I didn't know better I'd swear that I was just resting my wings on the floor. Of course, there was all the distortion around the tips of my wings and a dozen different signals coming from my feathers but I more or less ignored them, mostly as it would be like a pigeon understanding algebra.

"I'm really flying aren't I?" I asked, sounding somewhere between elated and giddy.

"Well I would suggest flapping a bit," she said, sweeping her own wings majestically and shooting forwards. "Otherwise we'll be ending earlier than I expected!"

I arched my own wings and attempted to imitate her and instantly stalled. My stomach lurched again as I began to fall and I threw my wings back out to catch myself, fortunately I'd got the 'not falling' bit down pat. I could see Dee going into a loop ahead of me and the trees below me were at least a comfortable distance away so there wasn't too much chance of me crashing and dying just yet.

I attempted to shrug resignedly, then discovered that that's practically impossible while flying and instead just rolled my eyes. Well, I was only going to live once. I flicked my wings upwards, felt the lurch in my stomach and swept them down, hurling myself forwards and actually gaining a little altitude.

"Great!" Dee exclaimed, suddenly appearing below me as I repeated the motion. "Now basically flying is all variations of falling and flapping. Just flap harder on one side to turn, and just trim your wings to go up and down. You can also use your legs to yaw."

"Okay," I said weakly, very slowly pulling myself into the sky and wondering what yawning had to do with my legs. "What's first though?"

"Something fun," Dee said brightly, flicking up towards me, rolling over and furling her wings.

"Tag," she said, touching her hand lightly against my chest. "You're it." Then she dropped away.

"Hey!" I protested, as flared her wings just above the canopy and skimmed along the tree line. "That's not fair; you've got ten years more experience than me!" Somehow though, I doubt she heard me.

I folded my wings, and plummeted after her.


	20. Duel

Duel - Dee

"Three. Two. One. Go!" Terrance yelled and the six off us pushed off into the sky, rising rapidly and watching the little brown ball shoot into the sky about a half a kilometre away.

Michael had been practicing flying for about a week now, and as I was convinced he wasn't going to crash into anything, I'd asked the residents of the Flyball pitch whether we could join in. They had of course proceeded to put us on opposite teams and started placing bets, though at least I had odds of three to one on.

The ball continued soaring into the sky and I groaned to myself. It was going to be a high game, I hated the high games. The loose flock dispersed as we each searched for a friendly thermal and I spotted Michael in the midst of the other team, rising clumsily but steadily into the sky. He hadn't quite got the concept of air currents and was still struggling getting his wing beats synced. He also tended to lose control whenever he went upside-down. But, he was still learning very fast and definitely had the imagination you need for complicated aerobatics. He just had to learn not to close his eyes while attempting a reverse loop. Honestly; you'd think we'd actually been near the ground when I tried to teach him that.

I reached level with the ball first and shot towards it. Somehow Michael had risen fastest out of his whole team and was also racing towards the ball, concentration etched into his face and brandishing a borrowed stick. Actually it was really odd that his team had fallen so far behind, unless they'd all picked cropped thermals they should at least have been close. I glanced suspiciously over my shoulder and saw my own team dropping back. The move was subtle, but they definitely weren't hot on my heels.

"Oh, thanks a lot!" I roared over my shoulder, though they almost certainly couldn't hear me. They just shrugged in near unison as I glowered at them, at least Michael didn't seem to notice that we were being set up.

The ball plummeted suddenly and Michael and I folded our wings simultaneously and dropped, both using only our feather tips to guide us down. He was getting better at that trick; at least now he'd twigged wings don't have to be unfurled for you to be in control.

"I thought this was supposed to be a team game!" he yelled over the roar of the wind, as it swept us towards each other.

"Would be if everyone didn't have their desserts bet on one of us winning!" I screamed back.

He seemed to think about that for a moment. "That makes this war then," he pointed out.

"Hell yeah!"

The ball was beginning to slow as it reached the psychics and both of us trimmed our wings, desperately trying to squeeze a few extra miles per hour. I was pulling ahead slightly and with about three seconds to go, every inch was vital.

Michael looked suddenly over his shoulder, slowing slightly and I instinctively looked, realising just as I saw nothing but open sky that I'd been had. The ball whistled past my ear and I flared my wings far too late, biting down a swear word and hearing Michael whoop above me as he netted the ball.

My shoulders strained as I fought gravity and desperately tried to pull up; we had managed to get dangerously close to the ground and the houses were closing fast. I let my left wing go slack and barrel rolled around a shop corner, the tips of my feathers brushing the asphalt and I shot into the sky, flapping desperately to close on Michael who was sprinting for the hoop. There was no way I was going to let him get away with that trick.

I charged at him with a roar from six o'clock low and he made the fatal mistake of looking around first. I flashed past; there was the crack of wood on wood and the ball when soaring out of his net. He yelled as I snatched it out of the air and dropped, flaring my wings and banking above street level and just about managing not to crack my skull open.

I shot down the street back towards his hoop, frantically glancing over my shoulder to keep track of Michael who was being less suicidal and skimming the rooftops. An abrupt dead end forced me to veer suddenly and I flitted down a side street. That's one big problem with flying at ground level, you have to obey the geography, and there also is the slight issue of the imminent high speed death.

After dodging an unexpected wreck, I reluctantly flicked myself into the sky and Michael was on me like a flash, slamming into my stick from below and sending me spinning. Something caught; the stick was jerked from my hand and the ball went arcing away, Michael swooping in after it and on the second swing netted it neatly.

"All's fair!" he yelled over his shoulder as he shot back down the street and I swore, catching my stick and tearing after him. When I caught him he was so going to pay, though I did wonder if he knew the end to that phrase.

Michael was flying at less suicidal heights and I sprinted towards him, flicking my wings and hunkering down to catch his slipstream, gaining inches at a painfully slow rate. That's one of the beauties of flying, it's always easier to chase than lead. Michael wasn't actually looking over his shoulder and that was buying him a few scant seconds but there was no way he was going to reach the hoop in time.

I was over him in a rush, bringing my stick round in a sweeping arc which completely failed to connect as he plummeted, banking sharply and diving round a corner. Only there wasn't actually a corner there and he was instead heading right towards a long abandoned shop front. I banked myself, pre-emptively wincing for the impact as he swung his legs forwards and furled his wings, spinning a full three hundred a sixty degrees and missing the wall by a feather's width. Then he slammed his wings open a moment later and went racing off down a side street.

See, I told you Michael could do aerobatics. You just have to get him hyped up enough that he doesn't realise just how dangerous it is. I pulled out of my banked dive and shot over the rooftops, trying to predict Michael's next move; most likely he was going to take the next turn but there was the slight chance that he'd try to trick me. See, that's why I prefer just chasing, it's less complicated, he'd have to be plotting his route, dodging houses _and_ desperately predicting where I'd intercept.

The red flash of wings caught my eye and I dropped towards Michael who had taken the first turn after all and was spiriting for the hoop. He obviously spotted me too as first he dummied left, then right, and then didn't do anything at all as I shot past, swinging wildly and catching myself just before I went splat on the asphalt.

"I'm still here!" I yelled, rising rapidly and dropping in behind him, right in his blind spot as it happened, though that's fairly redundant as he wasn't looking around anyway.

"I know!" he shot back. The hoop was getting awfully close awfully fast but still I'd have at least one shot at him, and he wasn't quite rising fast enough to get a clean shot for some reason.

"You're not going to have enough time!" I taunted, swooping in below him.

"Ah!" he countered. "But I know where you are."

"How…" I began, hesitating a second and he suddenly ripped away, banking sharply and spiralling upwards at joint wrenching speeds. I desperately threw myself after him but with a half second head start and wings designed for such a trick, he completed the manoeuvre a good twenty metres ahead of me with a bucket load more speed.

We rushed towards the hoop that was now scant yards away and I desperately tired to gain a few extra feet, riding his slipstream for all I was worth. There was no way I was going to lose this. I'd never live it down.

Michael swung at the very last second, pulling away to avoid hitting the hoop and I roared after the ball, almost knocking him out of the sky as I heaved my wings, desperately trying to glean the last atom of speed. With about ten yards to go I snatched the ball out of the sky and after a moment's elation realised with a sinking feeling that there was no way I was going to turn in time and I was mostly likely going to crash straight into the hoop.

I hurled the stick and ball away from me, desperately folding my wings and crossing my arms against my chest, there wasn't even time for me to alter my course so this was going to be just dumb luck, heck I hadn't even began to fall. My heel clipped the wooden rim and the whole structure hummed as I went roaring through, spinning slowly as I did so and somehow managing to pass through on my back.

The ground rushed towards me as I began to plummet and the stick soared lazily past me. It had just missed the hoop, which was good because that would have counted as Michael's point, and I reached out a hand to grab it, pulling it two towards me and flaring my wings, tumbling into a reverse loop. Out of the corner of my eye I spotted Michael beginning to dive after me and I picked out street that was narrow enough to give me some cover.

Okay situation report. Michael was consistently out thinking me, and had a little more innate manoeuvrability, but I'd been flying since I was four and knew this town like the back of my hand. That had to count for something.

I was at street level before I knew it and was tearing over the asphalt, brushing the tips of my wings along the ground as I barrel rolled to upright. If I flew low enough then Michael wouldn't dare to make a move, he didn't like flying too near solid objects. A shadow flashed over me I glanced over my shoulder and saw him ghosting along above me, concentration lined on his face. Okay, so maybe he didn't have to be actually close to the ground to chase me, but still my plan was technically working.

I threw myself up, and while he was scrambling banked left, shot down a side street and did a half roll, pulling up and darting back down yet another road. Michael burst onto the street a moment later and I dropped right, making it look like I was taking another detour. Halfway into my turn I flipped suddenly and hurled myself towards a too narrow back alley, convinced that I wasn't going to make it and clipped a wing on the walls as I sped through the gap. I ever so slowly began to lose height as the bricks rushed by a feathers breadth from my face, and I briefly wondered if this was the longer alley on this road or the shorter. I really hoped it was the shorter.

Suddenly I burst out into the sunlight and wrenched myself upright, pulling up hard as a house front rushed towards me, scraping my foot on a gutter and kicking myself into the sky as I dodged death by anther fraction of an inch. I folded my wings as I rocketed upwards and scanned the sky for any sign of Michael. A knot of bird kids were drifting lazily high above and they'd pay for this later but at least for a moment there was no sign of my pursuer.

Michael burst out of the alley a second later, a small cloud of feathers following him and threw himself left, also barely avoiding a crash and I began to fall, just as he spotted me and began to spiral into the sky. I flashed past him at about roof level, already beginning to pull up and he plummeted after me, hanging on to my slipstream with dogged determination. The tarmac loomed in my vision once more and I thought I'd lose him but a quick look over my shoulder told me he was still clinging on, I'd soon sort that out though.

Another sudden turn that skimmed a wall didn't lose him, neither did a half loop and dive and my attempt to fly a random course through the park just lost me precious time. I was actually really impressed, but still he was trying to beat me so I was not going to go easy on him. In fact it was time to pull out the stops.

I banked early on a turn and went screaming towards the window of Twenty Two B, a house that I'd discovered by accident had a quite interesting layout. Michael pulled out suddenly as I folded my wings and flipped over backwards, bringing my legs round to slip through the empty window, flashed through the living room, still spinning and bust out of the side window frame head first, flaring my wings and catching myself in time to complete the corner and lose Michael.

Then I saw him rush back down from roof level and the chase was back on.

I dove through the gap between two houses and banked into the row of gardens, shooting over trees and hedgerows, Michael still hot on my heels. I so shouldn't have taught him how to play follow the leader. I dropped right to ground level, flicking a wing closed to avoid a tree and having to arch another to dodge a rockery. Michael was beginning to drop behind I observed, snatching a glance as I darted through a gap in the fence and then threw myself through a hole in a hedge.

A low wall loomed ahead and I popped over it, ducking back down and spotting the end to the garden row tantalisingly close. Michael had pulled out but I don't think he realised just how close we'd gotten to his hoop. I slammed my wings shut as I rushed through a half open gate and then banked up and round, soaring above the roof tops and spotting the goal only a hundred yards away.

Michael was racing towards me and I reversed my grip on the stick, holding it close to my chest, a move only used by overly sneaky people such as myself. The hoop was getting tantalisingly close but Michael was hanging right on my wing, net at the ready, so I'd have to try a few more tricks.

I flicked the tips of my wings, miming making a turn and varied my speed randomly. He did flinch, though I noticed wasn't actively blocking me, just waiting for my shot. Well I could make use of that. We raced towards the hoop, showing no signs of slowing and the small knot of bird kids who sat on the roofs around us cheered indiscriminately. At least a third were betting on Michael but I was concentrating too hard to pick faces for my revenge list.

The hoop rushed closer and Michael broke first, throwing himself away and I folded back my wings, rolled and dropped to go screaming about an inch off the hoop, tapping my stick lightly on the rim and letting the ball fly leisurely through.

"Yes!" I yelled, unfurling my wings and punching the air as Michael pulled up along side me and I began a victory lap.

"Congratulations," he sighed, dejectedly. I wondered if he knew how much you can tell about someone based on how they hold their wings.

"Hey," I said brightly, shrugging. "I have got ten years experience on you."

"Well that's true," he admitted. "And at least I almost got a point." He glanced over his shoulder at the others who were trying to find where the ball had landed. "Besides, there's always a round two."

"Yeah. It may take them a while though. We're forever loosing balls."

"I'd say it'll take them a bit," he said with a grin, opening his hand and revealing the ball. I let out a bark of laughter. "Do you want to wager on how long?"

"Depends," I said smirking. "If we go get lunch we could probably leave them hanging for an hour or so."

"Shall we then?" he asked theatrically, complete with an overblown sweep of the arms which almost dropped him out of the sky.

"Let's," I said with a grin and we flew off towards the village.


	21. The Wider World

The Wider World - Dee

"Okay I give up," Michael said, watching the people in the fields hoeing by telekinesis. "How does this stuff work?"

It was about two weeks after his own personal end of the world, and Michael had managed to cope rather well. He wasn't exactly fine but was doing okay, enough to function in society, and it had gotten to the point where Dat had put him on the duty rotor. People had more or less accepted him and gotten on with their lives and even the Flyball kids had forgiven us once we remembered to give back their ball. I can't say he was being very sociable but at least he wasn't freaking out whenever he met someone new.

One thing that was getting him though was the telekinesis.

"Long and complicated answer?" I asked. "Or short and simple?"

"Long and complicated please."

"Damn," I sighed. "I was really hoping you'd go for short and simple."

We were on yet another type of guard duty. This time making sure no one snuck up on the fields where we grow all our food. It's not just us admittedly, because there are a lot of fields, but it was more boring 'waiting for nothing to happen' duties, made worse by the fact there was a seven foot fence around the perimeter. I tend to get stuck on the grunt duties because Dat dislikes me for some reason, and as Michael was being paired with me for a while we were going to be stuck up another wooden watchtower for some time.

"Why, so you could say 'its magic' in that annoyingly bright tone?"

"Maybe," I admitted sulkily and Michael rolled his eyes. "And how did you know I'd say that?"

"Pattern recognition," he replied with a knowing smile that I think he stole off Robin.

There was a brief silence.

"Well?" he asked. "How is it you disobey physics then?"

"Ah," I said brightly. "We don't. We disobey the laws of logic, not physics."

"And that's different how?"

"Simple," I explained, levitating a bolt out of my quiver and let it hover above the palm of my hand. "I actually have to supply energy to fight gravity, and if I try this for more than about thirty seconds I get the shakes. All that energy has to come from somewhere after all and I'm not good enough to drag it anywhere but from me."

"May I ask how it's getting to the bolt?"

"You can," I said, dropping the quarrel into my hand and sheathing it. "But I haven't got a clue. Ask one of the twins if you really want, but I heard something about W minus particles and mega electron volts and gave up."

"More importantly though," he mused. "What the hell was it bouncing off the bolt to keep it airborne?"

"I don't know," I admitted, shrugging noncommittally. "Air maybe. We just kind of do these things. Actually understanding it is a whole new band of ability."

"I really need to talk to these twins of yours," he said sighing. "Wait. Bands of ability?"

"Sure," I said with another shrug, breaking into lecture mode. "Basically all levels of telekinesis fall into five general ranges. Level one people like me can only use energy from their own bodies. Level two can use the energy around them but have to use themselves as a router. Level three can manipulate energy all around them without using themselves as a router and that's where our really powerful psychics are. Level four's could start messing around with abstract concepts, atoms and such, and the theoretical level fives can implement EMC squared."

"Einstein's equation?" he asked, surprised. "What's that got to do with telekinesis?"

"Well, we manipulate energy at a distance. And if mass and energy are the same thing, well..." I left that hanging, mostly because I'm not wholly sure what it means; unfortunately you tend to pick up statements like that when you live with a level three.

Michael's jaw dropped as he clearly did get the implications of that.

"Holy…" he began, awestruck. "No one has that kind of power do they?"

"Nope. And we're probably lucky because anyone who did would be border line omnipotent. On the other hand the top five psychics have an energy draw in the megatons, though after a certain point being able to get more power becomes redundant. The twins are both more proficient a psychic than Apollo but he's got a good two miles of draw over them."

"Megatons?" he asked in sheer disbelief.

"That or kilotons," I admitted. "I always get those two confused."

"That's very, very scary," he said weakly. "One person with that much power…"

"Meh," I said with a shrug. "It's actually finesse that defines how scary you are. You may well be able to throw the equivalent of a nuke at someone, but that's fairly redundant when you take out everything within two miles. Yourself included. And I think humanity proved that blowing people up rarely works."

"That we did," Michael sighed. I'd shown him some of the devastation from humanity's final war and let's just say it didn't cheer him up much. "Still, it jars to have some people an order of magnitude more potent."

"Why?" I asked confused. "It's not like they're threatening and without psychics we wouldn't have survived. None of us low levellers would have powers either."

"Suppose. I'm just kind of used to democracy…" he stopped suddenly. "Wait, why would none of you have powers?"

Ah, that was one of the things I wasn't really supposed to mention. Until Michael was trusted implicitly Dat had said not to go into to much detail about our telekinesis. It was the ace up our sleeves so to speak. On the other hand Michael was smart enough to figure it out in about two minutes and I did actually trust him with this small titbit of knowledge.

"You have to be unlocked," I explained sheepishly, glancing round for anyone who might over hear. I don't know why I did as we were on a good thirty foot tower in the middle of the growing fields, and that basically translates to there being absolutely no one nearby. "It's a ten second thing by one of the psychics and suddenly you can move objects with your minds. I think its bird people only but I suppose now you'd probably be able to too now."

"Cool," he said. "How tough is it to…"

I held up a hand to stop him and cocked my head. I thought I'd heard something, something rather like a storm of people chopping wood and judging from the number of people on the ground dropping their tools and looking into the sky they'd heard it too.

"Is that?" he began as a dark shape roared over the tree line, big as a house and stirring up a storm with twin rotors.

"You guys don't do Chinooks do you?" Michael yelled and I just shook my head as the helicopter circled the fields slowly.

Alarm flares were going up from the other towers and while I've already said I'm not strong enough to do a flare it was fairly redundant.

"Erasers?" he asked, shouting right in my ear over the noise.

"They don't do powered flight!" I roared back as the helicopter stopped above the rough centre of the fields, and just guess where our tower happened to be.

I would like to say it landed gracefully but that would be lying, it hit the ground with a bang, crushing a crop of corn beneath it wheels and throwing dust into a spiralling cloud that clogged the air. Joy was going to be furious about that later but right now an unknown, potentially hostile, force had just landed in our only field.

I swung myself off the tower as Michael scrambled down the ladder and flared my wings at the last second, completely forgetting the small tornado being created by the helicopter. The wind caught in my wings and I went flying off my feet, desperately trying to clamp my wings shut and went smashing into Michael, throwing both of us to the ground.

"We never mention this," I growled, getting to my feet and hauling Michael up after me. I'd never live down such a stupid mistake if it got out.

"Greetings!" a Voice boomed though the maelstrom of dust. "This is Lieutenant Parkinson representing the United Peoples of Earth. We welcome you to our collective and offer military support, technological expertise and medical care."

We rushed towards the centre of the hurricane and saw a pompous looking man shouting into a bullhorn. He was obviously from the military with an overly fancy uniform and a royal stick up his ass. I disliked him on sight.

"You there!" he barked spotting me, using the bullhorn even though we couldn't have been more than five yards from each other. "Go get someone in charge and be quick about it!"

"How do you know I'm not in charge?" I shot back, stalking towards him and yelling over the cacophony.

He looked me up and down slowly and I put my hands on my hips, glowering at him.

"Get out of my way you silly girl," he said dismissively, pushing me to one side. "I need to speak to your boss about your joining our collective."

"And what if we don't want to join?" I shot back, pushing him back and almost bowling him off his feet.

"Dee…" Michael began cautiously.

"You'll join for the sake of humanity," Lieutenant Parkinson said angrily, regaining his feet and puffing himself up in front of me. I might have been impressed if I couldn't snap him like a twig.

"Ah," I countered loftily, flaring the tips of my wings for him to see and almost went flying again. "Well there you see is the problem."

His eyes bulged and I grinned from ear to ear. That had so been worth it.

"Dee!" Dat roared furiously and I winced. Apparently I'd spoken too soon.

Dat landed heavily a hundred yards away and rushed over, flanked by Talon and Apollo. The dust had more or less settled and I realised that I was standing in the centre of a rough circle made up of people who were, without exception, better suited to first contact then me. I hadn't realised that I was being so obvious.

"If you're quite done causing an international incident," he continued angrily. "We can actually deal with this like rational people."

"Finally some sense," Lieutenant Parkinson sighed, turning to Dat. "Can you direct me to who's in charge?"

"I am," Dat said simply, half yelling to compensate for the rotors. "And I would…" He paused. "Could someone please turn that bloody engine off?" he asked angrily.

There was a momentary pause and then a choking sound as the engine stalled and the blades spun to a stop.

"Thank you," he said more calmly, and Apollo shrugged. I was guessing it was him; the pilot was desperately trying to restart the engine so I assumed it wasn't their choice.

"How…" Lieutenant Parkinson began then shook himself out of it, going back to his usual pomposity. "I am here to offer you the chance to join the United Peoples of Earth, we offer military protection, professional expertise and…"

"Military protection? That means you'll have an occupying force," Dat cut in.

"Well yes…"

"And you'll want something in return. Food perhaps?"

"We all have to band together in this difficult…"

"Then no," Dat pronounced.

"Sorry?"

"We don't need your help," he said simply. "Trade? Yes. Collaboration? Sure. But we are not going to accept your sovereignty.

Lieutenant Parkinson scowled at him. "Fine," he said darkly. "But don't come crying to us when the sun bleaches your crops and the monsters come to eat your diseased ridden bodies."

A lovely image there.

"Get the hell off my field," Dat said levelly, as the engine miraculously started up again.

"You'll regret this," Lieutenant Parkinson growled, stepping back into the helicopter and for the first time I realised just how many heavily armed soldiers were in there. I probably could have done with noticing that before.

"Whatever," Dat said with an offhand shrug. "Come back when you're willing to negotiate."

The chopper began to claw its way into the sky and we watched it go, Dat scowling and a good half of the people there had their crossbows loaded. The mood was unpleasant to say the least, people had more or less accepted Michael, but I don't think they were going to be as friendly with these new comers.

I began backing slowly towards Michael, who'd cleverly slunk into the circle of people, hoping to get away before Dat noticed.

"Dee," Dat cut in suddenly as the helicopter faded into the background and I froze. "I'd like a word."

Damn.


	22. Weird

Weird – Michael

Dee swooped into gracefully towards the balcony, flipping backwards and spreading her wings wide to catch the wind and landed with a gentle thump on the narrow balcony. I followed after her, flaring my wings far too early, feeling my stomach lurch and back flapped furiously, realising too late that I'd horrendously overcompensated and went smashing ignominiously into the wall.

"We still need to work on those landings don't we?" Dee asked with a sigh, as I peeled myself off the side of the house.

"Just a little," I admitted, wincing as I folded my wings. "Out of curiosity would telekinesis help with that?"

"Depends how good you are at it," she said, shrugging. "With me it's fairly useless unless I'm actually touching what I want to affect, or have been practicing loads. I've no idea what you might be able to do though," she admitted.

"And they'll be okay, 'unlocking' me?" I asked hesitantly, dropping my voice slightly with the unfamiliar word. I didn't like that term, it felt just… creepy for some reason.

"You'll be fine," she assured me, leading the way around the building. "And with any luck Dat wont have specifically forbidden them to do this."

"Err, what do you mean by spec…" I began, concernedly but Dee cut me off.

"Here we go," she said brightly, swinging open the front door and pushing me inside. "Welcome to the weirdness."

I staggered as I crossed the threshold and then looked around the building stunned. Despite being almost as big as the council chamber it was jammed with thousands of near incomprehensible pieces of technology, most seemingly placed to block as much light as possible and make the place feel like a cave, complete with an unnatural chill. Something I didn't think possible in a building thirty feet off the ground

One segment was smothered with dozens of sheets of blast glass, some as big as me, hanging from the ceiling but curiously there was a thick block of lead nestled against the back wall, plus a huge pile of sand for no apparent reason. Another slice of the building seemed to be devoted to intricate pipe work, all stainless steel but apparently without a seam, and also without a purpose, as it didn't seem to be attached to anything. Models of machinery lay everywhere, some hung from the ceiling, others rested on one of the hundred shelves and none of them I even recognised. Well, I thought I saw a steam engine but my experience with telekinesis told me it could just as easily be fusion powered.

The rest of the room was crammed with work desks, rolled scrolls; a small printing press and what looked like an electrolysis cell nestled in the back. Amidst all this chaos two identical girls sat on opposite ends of a table, concentrating intently on a bowl of dirt. Both looked round in the same instant as I stumbled over my own feet and winced sheepishly.

"Michael, I presume?" the one on the left asked, rising to her feet and fixing me with piercing eyes as Dee stepped up next to me.

"Um… I," I stammered, her stare completely derailing my train of thought. If the faint indigo glow around her pupils wasn't disconcerting enough she seemed to be looking _through_ me, focusing on a point about three inches behind my eyes.

"Yeah it's him," Dee announced brightly, slapping me on the shoulder and almost sending me flying. Obviously she wasn't put off by the icy stare. "Sorry, he's usually more articulate than this. Michael this is Taimi," she said pointing to the girl staring at me. "And Tima." She pointed to the other girl who'd gone back to looking at the dirt.

"Taimi," the girl concentrating on the dirt corrected.

"Tima," said the other, who still hadn't looked away from me.

"Whoops," Dee whispered and I grinned softly.

"While visitors are always nice," Tima began slowly. "I am curious as to why you are here."

"Oh, no reason," Dee said evasively, looking around the room, feigning interest. "Just popping in to say, 'hi'. Swap stories… Maybe get Michael unlocked."

"As we were specifically asked by Dat not to do?" she asked loftily, wandering over to a row of tools.

"Ah," Dee said, visibly deflating. "So no chance of…?"

"No," Taimi said resolutely, accepting a Geiger counter from Tima without looking up. It was decidedly odd how Tima had gone and gotten that without being asked but I've learnt to stop asking about such things. 'It just does' is generally the best answer I can get from most people.

"How about you 'accidentally' tell me how to do it?" Dee suggested hopefully.

"You can't anyway," Taimi pointed out. "Not unless you've got deep object perception now."

The frozen smile on Dee's face told me that she didn't even know what that was.

"What are you guys doing anyway?" I asked after a moment's uneasy silence, as Tima waved the counter over the box of dirt.

"Trying to figure out why the count rate drops when you perceive the dirt," Taimi explained. I think she used 'perceive' in different sense than I was used to, but just what she meant is another one of the mysteries of psychics.

"It's something we noticed a few weeks ago," she continued. "When anyone else takes the reading it's about eight but when we do it's about three."

"Um," I began hesitantly. "Isn't eight a little high?"

"It's about thirty in some of the cities," Dee hissed. "It's actually pretty low around here. And don't even ask about the places that got really flattened."

"That's not really the point though," Tima interjected. "The point is the sample doesn't behave as normal when we're around and this breaks several known laws of physics. Plus some basic laws of mathematics."

"I thought that happened with most of the stuff you did," I said. Foolishly as it turned out.

"We are not breaking physics," Taimi said, steely voiced and setting the Geiger counter down angrily. "Logic maybe, but none of the fundamental laws are broken, there's no extra mass, every action has its reaction and everything still behaves exactly as it should. We're just affecting the world in a non human manner."

I edged away slightly; self preservation was telling me these weren't the people to annoy.

"Yet you say this invalidates physics?" Dee asked brightly and Taimi scowled at her.

"Well, probability," Tima growled. "And only technically."

"Any idea why?" I asked her, hopefully trying to steer the conversation to safer ground.

Tima rolled her eyes.

"Not a clue," Taimi admitted. It was getting seriously disconcerting that they were answering seemingly at random but I reckoned it would be rude to ask if they were reading each others minds.

"It's not even constant between people," she continued. "Heck, nothing seems constant between people. Watch." The Geiger counter lifted into the air slowly, clicking every so often.

"But if Dee tries it…" Tima began as the counter hurled itself towards Dee who caught it just above her hand. There was a second's pause and then it started screaming.

"It goes haywire," Taimi explained, raising her voice over the noise and Dee let the counter drop into her palm, looking just a little surprised. "And that's really bad as it's designed to detect ionising radiation," she pointed out.

"Any ideas?" Tima asked, as Dee hurled the Geiger counter away. Not sounding too expectant.

"Err… Something to do with how you're transmitting the energy?" I hazarded.

"Well, that's what we thought," Tima admitted, as the Giger counter froze an inch from the ground and rushed into her hand. "But we're struggling to make heads or tails of the Feynman diagrams we found and we're not even one hundred percent sure they're even relevant."

"Have you tried Zap," Dee suggested. "He's pretty up on his science."

"No such luck," Taimi sighed. "He's an engineer rather than a nuclear physicist. Which is really what we need right now."

"Apollo," Tima said softly.

"You haven't asked him?" Dee said in disbelief.

"No he's…" Taimi began, as I heard the door bang open behind me and whirled to see Apollo standing in the doorway.

"Greetings and salutations," he boomed, striding into the room and everyone rolled their eyes.

"Here," Taimi completed, sighing.

It's something I still haven't really gotten used but everyone seems to, to a greater or lesser extent, reflect their names. Possibly because their names were assigned based on how they looked or acted and in the few cases where they picked their own names they chose the one that seemed most relevant. Apollo was one of former, and looked like he'd just marched out of a Greek myth, clearly from the Mediterranean and built like a mobile wall. It doesn't help that he's apparently capable of levelling everything within two miles.

"What. Not a chuckle?" he asked, walking in and sounding genuinely surprised. "Oh, hi Dee. Michael," he said noticing us. "What are you guys doing here?"

"We can stop in for a friendly chat can't we?" Dee asked sweetly, a voice that you only ever hear when she's trying to manipulate you.

"Well, I had heard you were grounded after the first contact thing," he pointed out, stopping next to us and looming almost accidentally. I glanced at Dee who completely failed to meet anyone's eye.

"Okay, you caught me," she admitted, sighing theatrically and shrugging. "We're actually here to get Michael unlocked."

"Is that all?" he asked grinning, and flicking his wrist. There was the faintest sensation of pins and needles which was gone almost before I could notice. "Done."

Behind me I heard Tima's head hit the desk.

"That's it?" I asked in disbelief, it had felt almost inconsequential.

"They-sure-know-their-stuff-don't-they?" Dee said in a rush, grabbing my wing and neatly sidestepping Apollo. "Well we don't want to take up any more of their valuable time. I'm sure Jaz can do the tutoring." She set off at a run towards the door, dragging me with her.

"Not the wing! Not the Wing!" I protested as we virtually sprinted out of the door and Dee launched me into the sky before leaping after.


	23. Life Lessons

_Authors note: It has been asked how humans can survive outside unsuited and I would just like to stress that while the radiation levels in the Dawn of the Earth universe are about double real world values this is well within survivable levels, and you'd get far worse from a chest X-ray._

Life Lessons – Dee

"Anything?" I said, exasperated, as the coin stayed affixed to the table.

"No," Michael snapped. "And for the last time are you sure that telekinesis doesn't take some time to kick in."

"No!" I yelled angrily. "It's instant; and you've had an hour already."

"Well, it's clearly not working," he protested, snatching up the coin. Don't ask me why we've got a coin, we found it in a drawer. "Apparently my brain can not be wired to disobey the laws of physics."

"It's that kind of thinking that's stopping you from doing it!" I shot back. "Say 'I can' for once."

"Can't you two find somewhere else to argue," Jaz said with a sigh, sliding into a chair next to us. "Like, other than my kitchen?"

"Well, we're going to bother the least people here," I pointed out with a shrug and perfect logic; Jaz dropped her head into her hands. "Now, let's try again. Make. The coin. Hover!"

Michael groaned.

"Dee, you are the worst teacher in the history of our kind," Jaz said bluntly, though considering how many of us there were she was probably right. "Yelling at someone until they do as you say has never been considered education."

"Worked for me," I said, with another shrug.

"Yes," she admitted. "But you didn't take much to schooling did you?"

"Technically," I admitted, with a bit of hand waving.

"So do you want me to take over with this?" she asked pointedly, the coin appearing between her fingers. "Instead of just having the blind leading the blind?"

"Bit tense today are we?" I asked brightly.

"You try juggling a one year old, you guys and making sure no more Chinooks sneak up on us," she growled. "Shall we get on with this?"

"I'm easy," Michael said quietly. He's still a little intimidated by Jaz. Then again, who isn't?

"I'll take that as a yes," she muttered. "Right. Lesson one." The coin leapt out of her hand a stood rock steady six inches above the table. "Can you feel this?"

"I'm not doing it," he said, confused.

"That wasn't the question," she sighed.

Michael thought about that for a moment and screwed up his eyes at the coin. "Yes," he hazarded after a moment. "Maybe."

"Well that means you at least have been unlocked," Jaz sighed. "Which of course, Dee will be receiving an earful for later, from me and Dat."

I winced.

"I've been able to tell when people are using their powers for weeks though," Michael pointed out, still with his face screwed up. I'm not entirely sure why he thinks that helps.

"Really?" Jaz asked, surprised. "Well that's odd to say the least. Still, you were exposed to Hope and she is known to fiddle with people's minds just because she can."

I really suggest you don't dig into that story. Will's still got a twitch.

"So a six year old has been messing with my mind," he said, rolling his eyes. "I should probably be more worried about that, but as she recently rewrote my genes it's not so much of a shock anymore."

"I've got worse news," Jaz continued. "This really should be instinctive."

The coin suddenly hurled itself at Michael's face and he threw himself out of the way, raising a hand almost as an afterthought to snatch the coin out of the air as it went screaming through the space where his head had been. It would have been much more impressive if the whole manoeuvre hadn't sent him flying out of his seat and sprawling across the floor, but hey, what can you do?

"Nice reflexes," Jaz said honestly and Michael picked himself up, muttering. "She's been making you play flyball a lot, hasn't she?"

"Just a little," he said sullenly, flicking the coin back at Jaz who made it slow to a halt just before her. "Was there a lesson in that that I missed?"

"I was hoping for some telekinesis," she admitted. "Reflex actions are usually a good way to get though a mental block."

"Well, it may help if I knew what I was trying to do?" he pointed out, still sounding a little sulky.

"It shouldn't matter," I cut in. "I haven't got a clue as to how I can do these telekinesis things but it doesn't stop me."

"Well its stopping me," he pointed out snidely. I stuck my tongue out at him.

"Children," Jaz sighed. "Stop it."

We both muttered something incomprehensible.

"Now lets see," she continued after a moments pause. "How am I doing this?" The coin danced in front of her as she pondered, I resisted the urge to bat it out of the air. "Right now I'm throwing the kinetic energy out of the coin and using it to push air outwards, if you put your ear close enough you can actually hear it buzz. But you could use some other methods like, throwing matter off it, bouncing the air onto it, or simply pumping energy into it and converting it in the coin."

"I'm fairly sure Newton would argue with a few of those," he interrupted.

"Ah, Newton never met us," she countered, flashing her eyes amber. "And I'm fairly sure that this is more finding loopholes that breaking the law."

"Okay throw it here," he sighed and reluctantly snatched it out of the air as Jaz pinged it towards him. "You know," he began, as he rested the coin on the back of his palm. "It seems rather complicated to keep transferring the kinetic energy. Why not just radiate it?"

"Well you could," she admitted. "But I'd stick with lobbing energy at it; it's the easiest to wrap your head around."

Michael gently removed his hand leaving the coin sitting rock steady on the open air. He grinned softly to himself and I glanced at Jaz who was also smiling.

"Okay," he said quietly, after the coin stayed in position. "I have got to meet the guys who designed this."

"Luckily for us they're long dead," I said with a bitter laugh, cocking my head and trying to use my own meagre powers of psychic detection to figure out what method he eventually settled on.

"The coin's getting rather hot," Jaz said simply, leaning forwards and holding her palm above the silvered surface.

"Ah," I said brightly, reaching a revelation. "The old bombardment technique."

"No," she continued, shutting her eyes to concentrate better. "Direct conversion of any gained kinetic energy into thermal energy, with a little bit of gamma radiation."

There was a moment's pause as I tried to decode what she'd just said.

"Damn it," she muttered, standing up suddenly, her chair almost hitting the ground as she sent it flying in her haste but some invisible force caught it. "I need to tell Dat this," she announced, heading for the door. "Don't go anywhere." She threw herself off the balcony and hit air without even pausing to put on shoes.

"Um," Michael began hesitantly, letting the coin drop to the table. "What did that even mean? And why is she in such a rush?"

"Well," I began, touching a finger to the coin and ripping it back as my skin seared. It wasn't actually burning hot, but had the intensity of metal left too long in the sun. "You remember how the levels of power depend on how you can manipulate energy?"

"Yes," he said, sounding distinctly anxious. He probably had some inkling already.

"Well, I think that makes you a level three," I completed. "Congratulations, you're now counted among the most powerful psychics in the village."

He looked at me, searching for any hit of deception, his expression growing steadily more desperate but I just shook my head sadly. His eyes shifted to pleading for a moment and then he put his hand on his forehead, sighing deeply.

"Shit," he said simply.

I couldn't have agreed more.


	24. Revelations

Revelations – Michael

The cool pre dawn air rushed over my feathers as Dee and I skimmed over the treetops. There are no real words to describe just how mindless it was for us to be sneaking out, especially as Dat had more or less put me under house arrest, but after Dee had succumbed to my whining and told me that actually, the lab that they'd all come from was less than ten miles away, I had to check it out. Not just for curiosity's sake, but because of my father. Unless there was another top secret biological research lab in the area he'd probably worked there. Heck, that was the whole reason that my Mom and I had moved into the area, why we even had a pass for The Bunker.

"Okay!" Dee half yelled, swooping closer. "The trees should be giving enough distortion so that anyone sensitive shouldn't notice us. Still, if either of the twins is on lookout duty they'll notice the moment we reach the building."

"So we have to look around quickly and then scraper?" I hazarded, almost crashing into Dee as I threw myself out of the way of a particularly tall tree. I wasn't kidding about skimming the treetops; my shoes felt like they were filled with leaves.

"Nope!" she said brightly and my self preservation instincts instantly started screaming. "We just have to get inside without landing. Follow me."

I hated it when she said that, it usually involved me crashing into something. Dee darted in front of me and I dropped into her slipstream as the trees suddenly disappeared beneath us to reveal a monolithic three story white building nestled on the ridge of a low hill. I barely had time to gasp a breath of surprise before Dee shot straight upwards and I had to throw myself after her to just stay on her tail.

"Dee!" I roared, as we rocketed higher. "What are you doing?" I could already feel the stall building in my feathers.

"A little trick I've been working on," she explained, as for a moment we hung at the apex and then began to plummet. "Just keep close."

We fell, wings flared towards the roof of the lab which I suddenly realised had a gaping hole where part of the ceiling was simply gone. Like it had never been there at all in fact, and it was only over one, admittedly very large, room. That was interesting, though it would have been far more interesting if it wasn't approaching quite so fast and Dee was actually showing signs of slowing down.

"Dee!" I yelled in panic as the walls flashed past us and she trimmed suddenly, throwing herself into a loop and I scrambled to follow. I could feel my wings straining as I desperately tried to pull up, and I bellowed something incoherent as my feet clipped the wooden boards and I went spiralling back into the sky.

Dee stalled herself at about roof level and began to drop gracefully towards the floor. I managed to mess up yet another reverse loop, lost almost all my control and ended up coming in way too fast, barely the right way up and landed hard, having to run to avoid breaking something and ended up sprinting past Dee, tripping and hitting the ground with a bang.

"Yep," Dee said, as I slid to a stop and lay there groaning. "Landings definitely need more work."

"Ow," I said weakly, getting to my feet and brushing the grime off me. "And did I mention? Ow."

"Oh, stop being a baby," she chided. "You're the one who wanted to see this place."

"And I'm regretting it more by the second," I muttered, glancing around the room. It looked a lot like the old gym we had at the bunker; soft wood floors, incomprehensible athletics equipment spread around the walls, and various sports pitches painted onto the boards. Of course it was about three times the size and actually had head room; not to mention ten years of disregard and an open ceiling had really done a number on the place. There was at least an inch of grime and the gym kit had long ago rusted into a solid mass, anything of any real value had long ago been scavenged by the bird people.

"So this is your infamous lab?" I asked, sighing. This so wasn't worth the risk, I wasn't even sure what I was supposed to be looking for.

"Yep," Dee said brightly, "The bird cage as it happens, this is were we learnt to fly and they'd give us exercise." She wandered over to a corroded platform at about head height and sighed. "I took my first flight off this thing. It felt much taller back then."

"They were looking after you guys?" I asked, surprised. From what I'd heard the 'White Coats' were only one step up from homicidal maniacs.

"Yeah, I guess they weren't so bad," Dee admitted mournfully, shrugging. "I don't know, I wasn't really old enough to make any conclusions. Still, if they hadn't done what they did we'd all be dead so maybe it was a necessary evil." She glanced over her shoulder. "Still, don't tell anyone I said that."

"Neither of us are supposed to be here," I pointed out. "Your secret's safe."

"Touché. Now where do you want to go first? I think we've more or less cleared the place out of anything useful but we're bound to have missed something."

"Well, what is there?" I asked, as we began to wander towards the main double doors, picking our way around patches of mould and moss.

"Lets see," she said, beginning to count them off on her fingers. "We've got the labs, the cage rooms, the social areas, a bucket load of offices and rooms upon rooms of files. Most of which have been emptied. What are you looking for anyway?"

I thought about that for a moment "Family," I sighed and ignored Dee's curious look. "Does this place have a basement?" I asked suddenly.

"I don't know," she admitted at length, pausing. "I don't think I've heard anyone mention one. Let me think."

"Err, Dee?" I said hesitantly, as the floor began to creak.

"Give me a sec'," she snapped and I took a few smart steps back as there was an almightily crack and Dee vanished in a puff of wood rot.

"Dee?" I called, stepping gingerly to the edge of the hole and looking down into the gloom.

"Okay!" she called back, sounding royally annoyed. "I can say with some certainly that this place had a basement!"

I suppressed a smirk and leapt down, landing lightly next to Dee who was trying to get the mould out of her feathers. The room looked no better than a glorified storage closet, crammed with buckets, shelves and half empty file cabinets. On the other hand, for a building supposedly stripped bare it was surprisingly full.

"I hate these kinds of places," Dee muttered, shaking herself all over as I rummaged though the various draws.

"That's probably why this place hasn't been stripped to the bone," I mussed. "I mean, there's got to be some reason you guys build large houses high in the air with far too many windows."

"Hey," she said defensively. "You try living in a cage for a few years and see where you feel like living."

"Somewhere not damp, dark and claustrophobic?" I asked, pulling out a pair of torches from deep within a drawer and switching one on. "There we go," I said triumphantly as the bulb flickered to life. "Catch."

Dee's little ray of light joined mine a second later and we scanned around the gloom. There wasn't much to say about the room, it really was just a cupboard with a few corroded tools and a couple of bottles of cleaning fluid that had reached a volatile old age. The door did turn out to be locked but the wood had long ago succumbed to dry rot and a swift kick sent it flying off its hinges.

"Did I mention that bird people are much stronger than humans?" Dee asked innocently, as I stared in shock at the damage I'd done to the door.

"Well I had kind of figured," I murmured, then shook myself and stepped over the remains, out into the corridor, which was just as featureless as the cupboard. No one had apparently bothered to decorate the concrete walls or if they had it had long ago yielded to the march of time. The ceiling hadn't done much better, with gaping holes producing pools of light at random intervals; they didn't do much for the light, just succeeded making the darkness darker and judging from the cracks crisscrossing every surface the whole place could come crashing down with a sneeze.

"Where to then?" Dee asked, shining the torch in my face.

"We're looking for a big metal door," I snapped, covering my eyes. "Probably a couple of inches of lead, we should know when we see it. Of course this place is probably a maze so we should leave a trail, I wonder if there's any chalk in that room."

I turned to go back into the supply cupboard when Dee suddenly piped up. "We take a right, a left another left and then the next two rights," she reported.

"How on Earth do you know that?" I asked in shock, whirling.

"There's a map on the wall," she said smugly. "It's marked with the little radiation symbol."

"_Don't figure it out," _I silently begged.

"Michel," she began slowly and my heart plummeted. "Why the hell are we looking for a bunker? And why do you even know that there's one here at all?"

Damn.

"We're too far away from the main one," I explained quietly. "It's at least ten miles away as the crow flies as it would be impossible to get there with only a few minutes warning at the best of times. Let alone during the turmoil. And if they believed strongly enough that the world was going to end that they'd build you guys then they'd make provisions for their own survival. A second bunker in the building would be the most logical choice."

Dee sighed deeply. "That makes sense," she admitted begrudgingly. "Shit, that makes real sense." She began to stalk off down the corridor. "Come on!" she called over her shoulder and I rushed to catch up. Overall she was taking it better than I thought she would.

"You didn't say why we were looking for it though?" she growled, as we picked our way through the rubble.

"Curiosity?" I suggested and she just looked at me. "Okay," I admitted. "I mentioned that my dad was a scientist right?"

"Yeah."

"Well… There are no other labs around here. He almost certainly was working in this building. As one of the White Coats."

Dee froze, right in a crack of light and looked at me first in disbelief, then shock, and then sheer horror.

"Your father," she said slowly. "Was a White Coat?"

"Yes," I sighed.

"And we're now going to look for where the rest of them may well be sheltering?"

"Most probably."

"Give me one good reason that I shouldn't leave now and tell Dat."

"He's the only family I have left," I said simply.

There was a long pause.

"Damn it, damn it, damn it, damn it, damn it!" she muttered to herself and then smacked her forehead. "Fine. We'll find him. But we tell no one. People didn't like you being human, let alone being a White Coat. And I have no idea how people might react to an enclave of White Coats living so close for all this time."

"Not well I'd guess," I said, rather redundantly as we continued into the darkness.

"No," she confirmed. "Not well at all."


	25. Lead Lined Coffin

Lead Lined Coffin – Michael 

"No," I murmured as we rounded the corner and saw the door lying before us. Literally, lying. It had been discarded against one of the walls like a broken branch, and judging from the layer of rubble covering it; it had been there for some time.

I walked slowly towards the entrance; there was no doubt that this had been a bunker, the six inches of lead frame were a dead give away. But there was also no doubt that this corridor hadn't been used for years, even Dee and I were leaving deep footprints in the dust, but there wasn't a trace of any others. Not a particularly good sign all in all.

The worst was yet to come. I put a hand against the hinges; they'd been shorn clean though, probably by an angle grinder, and the hinges had been on the outside.

"Err, Michael," Dee said suddenly and I turned to see her holding up a tuft of mortified fur and wincing.

"Now this is where the Erasers came from so it might…" she began but I was already running. I burst through the doorway, found myself in a deep stairwell and took the steps whole flights at a time, ignoring Dee's yell.

A second flimsier door about three stories down had been torn off its hinges and if I'd actually been paying attention I'd have noticed the wall opposite was riddled with bullet holes. I wasn't paying attention though, and went blundering into the pick black of a bunker, swinging my torch wildly picking up random details; dark stains on the walls, a snatch of dark fabric, discarded casings and flashes of white.

Something snapped beneath my feet. It felt rather like a dry stick, but given that the rational part of my brain was already screaming in horror I might have had a sneaking suspicion what it really was.

"Damn it, Michael," Dee gasped, bursting in after me. "Please don't run off like that, we have no…" He torch beam swung over me, casting a petrified shadow on the opposite wall.

"What's the matter with you?" she asked, wandering up to me.

"Dee," I began hesitantly. "Could you do me a favour and tell me honestly, whether I want to look down."

There was a momentary pause while the light bobbed.

"No," she said slowly and I could practically hear the wince.

"Okay then," I said, trying to adopt some of that mock brightness. "Let's keep exploring, shall we?" I swung my torch around and instantly revealed a skeleton, lying in a heap against the wall, still in a moth eaten lab coat and with the legs a good three feet away.

"Michael?" Dee began, as I stood frozen, feathers standing on end which I didn't actually think was possible.

"These places always turn out to be tombs, don't they?" I said in a very strained voice, with maybe just a _hint_ of hysterics.

"I think we should step outside," Dee suggested, giving a gentle tug on my shoulder.

"No," I said, flicking off my torch, then snatching Dee's and turning that off too. "Just give me a minute."

We stood in the darkness for what felt like an eternity, while I tried to convince my brain that I was somewhere else. Not my own room because that was even worse than a crypt right now but somewhere safe. Maybe, sitting down for dinner with Dee's family on a nice sunny evening, yeah, that would do.

"Okay," I said at length, switching the torch back on. "I'm better now."

"We don't have to explore right now," Dee suggested kindly.

"Got to find my father," I muttered, casting the light around the room, ignoring the occasional pile of bones. "Maybe he wasn't here. Maybe he escaped."

"Michael…" Dee began again, but I brushed her off, heading for a door that looked like it had more or less been ignored in the mêlée.

As it turns out, I'm actually quite good at guessing these things and found a room filled with filing cabinets, good ones too, most had a padlock or two and only one looked as if it had been successfully opened. Deep gouges were scored in most of the others, but they weren't actually open.

"Let's see. C. C," I muttered, running a hand along the rows. "Ah, here we go."

"What are you looking for anyway," Dee asked casually, wandering up behind me.

"My Dad's files," I explained, rattling the draw. "If they're here and dated post-apocalypse then… well he's probably dead. Can you help me with this?"

"Sure." There was a subtle inrush of energy and Dee tore the drawer clean out, letting it hit the ground with a bang. "That good?"

"It'll do," I said, trying not to sound impressed. "Just give me a moment to look though these."

"I'll look around then," she announced as I began to rifle frantically through the files. "See if the Erasers missed anything."

"Okay," I murmured, not really paying attention and pulling out a sheaf of papers marked 'Conner'. This was it, an answer to a question I'd asked over a decade ago, I flipped to the final entry.

"_Day 39._

_Our imprisonment continues. So far there has been no success in contacting the outside world and it is suspected that either there has been a nearby strike and an EMP has affected our radio or there is simply no one left to reply…" _

It continued on like that; a dutiful report of the day's event, things of interest, a few experimental notes, all with the undertones of crushing despair and clinical detachment. A lot like back at my bunker in fact.

I slumped against the wall, letting myself slide to the floor. I suppose all in all it wasn't much of a shock that my father was dead, and as I barely knew him it shouldn't matter that much. Still, it hurt; a roaring ache in my heart. I was alone, truly alone.

I heard a muffled thud and what sounded like heavy footsteps.

"Dee?" I called hopefully, getting slowly to my feet. There was no response.

"Dee!" I yelled, skulking towards the door. I couldn't see her torch beam and pointed mine firmly at the ground, plunging me into gloom, but at least I could see the room better.

I paused before the doorway, listening for a moment. I could definitely hear footfalls, and more than one pair, worse though they sounded like there was a lot of mass behind them and we don't exactly weigh much. Besides if it was Dat catching up with us they wouldn't be sneaking around and anyway, who ever they were, they already knew I was here.

"Nobody move!" I roared, leaping round the corner, holding the torch like a gun and shinning it right at the five dark shapes. I noticed three things in the next few seconds: one, they were all humans with jet black combat suits, night vision goggles and rather nasty looking assault rifles. Two, Dee was draped unconscious over the shoulder of one who was already half way up the first flight of stairs, and finally one already had a flash bang ready in hand. Also not a one had been convinced by my stellar acting.

I threw myself back into the room as the flash bang arced through the air, dropping the torch in my haste and hit the concrete hard, scrambling to my feet a moment later and desperately trying to get the wall between me and the grenade in the scant seconds I had available.

The explosion was deafening, even with my hands clutched over my ears, and it seemed to permeate my very bones, echoing and reverberating around the concrete box, shaking dust from the ceiling and forcing me into a tighter ball, desperately trying to block out the cacophony and blinding light. Even through a wall and my closed eyelids the light was blinding and it felt like I was caught in the very centre of an endless explosion.

Then, all of a sudden it was over, the echoes fading away to infinity. I got unsteadily to my feet, blinking stupidly in the pitch black, the torch was probably broken and my night vision had evaporated along with it. A moment later though I realised suddenly; they had taken Dee, and I had absolutely no idea where they might be going. I set off at a run and instantly ran into a wall, cracking my forehead on the concrete.

Okay that was really stupid.

"Light," I snapped, holding out my hand in emulation of Jaz or Dee when they make a wraith light appear.

Not surprisingly, nothing happened.

"Light!" I demanded, more angrily this time, summoning up my will and trying to make even an ember to appear.

Still nothing.

"Aw, screw this!" I yelled to no one in particular. Groped for the wall and ran my hand along until I found the familiar box. "Light," I announced, flicking the switch and the florescent bulbs came on with a bang, almost blinding me again.

I rushed out into the corridor which was now dusted with grey, snatched an aged pistol out a skeleton's grip and sprinted towards the door, reaching the base of the stairs just in time to see a straggler making a run for the outside. There seemed to have been fewer flights when I was going down but I didn't even pause at the top and went belting down the corridor, straining to hear over my own ragged breathing which way they'd went.

The corridor Dee and I had come through was too long for them to have gotten down in time, how fast can you go when carrying a twenty pound gun and forty pound Dee? But the second passage had caved in long ago and there wasn't a third at all. I skidded to a stop in front of a blank wall, swore and started running back, apparently there really had been more stairs than I thought and now they'd only gotten further ahead.

I was still running flat out as I skidded into the corridor and found the T-junction almost immediately. I don't even recall making the decision, just dove right and prayed on probability; maybe I could say something about that corridor looking more familiar, or having more light. But that way I had a fifty/fifty chance and its not like I know how to track people anyway.

Two lucky guesses, a dead end and a scuff on the wall that might have been a chalk mark later, I burst out into a long corridor and saw two soldiers retreating up a flight off crumbling stairs.

"I mean it this time!" I bellowed and squeezed off a warning shot in their rough direction.

Nothing happened. Again.

I threw the gun away in disgust just as it roared, and I leapt out of my skin as a ricochet sparked off all four walls before sailing down the corridor and embedding itself into the banister next to one of the heavily armed men. There was a moments pause as I think they struggled to understand I was shooting at them, in which I was already following through with my momentum, bounced off a wall and hurled myself to the ground, just as an assault rifle thundered, filling the narrow space with yet another deafening cacophony.

I raised my head as the echoes died down and I realised that was in fact not dead, a quick glance over my shoulder confirmed I hadn't been hit though had gained another coating of dust. A snarl escaped my lips as I scrambled to my feet and took the stairs three at a time, out of the labyrinth I could finally hear what I'd feared all along, the tell tail chop of a helicopter readying for launch.

A desperate glance around yielded no sign of an exit or of Dee and for all I knew I could be at the very start of yet another maze. On the other hand there was another set of emergency stairs right next to me. I rolled my eyes and started sprinting up them; there were too many stairs in this chase.

I burst out onto the flat part of the roof and dashed towards the edge, just in time to see the last of the soldiers leap into the helicopter three stories down and the rotors begin to kick up a storm as they gained speed.

"_It's just not fair" _I thought half heartedly, panting desperately to try and regain my breath. The copper crawled its way up towards me and I jogged backwards, the downdraft produced by that thing would be incredible and I did not want to think what would happen if I was caught _above_ it.

The growing roar I guessed meant they'd taken off and I began to run forwards, hurling myself over the lip just as the helicopter burst over the roofline. I flicked open the edges of my wings just as I realised that I was coming in much too high and that Chinooks don't actually have a guide rail to grab onto like most considerate helicopters. My joints screamed as the wind picked me up and threw me like a doll, and I desperately tried to trim to avoid either whirling death or simply being dashed against something.

Through luck or good judgement I actually managed to be chucked in the general direction of the chopper and I threw out my arms to grab the lip. I'd completely misjudged the wind though and slammed my stomach into the frame, knocking the air clean out of me and I slid along the length of the hatch, grabbing on the open door at the very last second and clung on for dear life.

The noise was deafening, and I was beginning to wonder if my hearing was going to survive this, let alone me. I struggled to pull myself into the compartment, scrabbling with my legs wildly to try and gain purchase on the smooth sides and fighting the gale that was threatening to throw me into the air.

I'd just managed to pull my head over the lip to see a still unconscious Dee and about a dozen heavily armed soldiers. A pair of heavy boots appeared before my face and I looked up to see Lieutenant Parkinson in a flight helmet, holding on firmly to a loop hanging from the roof and cradling a large rifle in the crook of his arm.

He yelled something that was lost in the tempest but it probably translated to. "Let go or die!"

I glanced again at Dee who was still away with fairies and back at Lieutenant Parkinson, murder in my eyes, furiously trying to think of a way a way to kill someone by levitating stuff. He clicked the safety catch off, and I growled, looking back to Dee for a moment and then hurled myself from the helicopter, letting the wind carry me back towards the ground, flaring my wings hard above the canopy and landing roughly in the upper bows of a tree, suppressing the urge to yell every swear word I knew.

I saw the doors slide shut on the Chinook and it began to slide its way away, slowly but steadily increasing the distance between us. My mind reeled, I had no way of contacting anyone, and by the time I reached the village they would be long gone. There was nothing I could do against a helicopter… although; they couldn't keep her in there indefinitely. At the very least they'd need fuel at some point.

I fixed their bearing in my mind, south east-ish, and took off quietly, ghosting above the tree tops, trying to match their speed.

"I'm coming Dee," I promised, half to her, half to myself. "I'll save you."


	26. The Lion's Den

The Lion's Den - Michael

I hit the ground with a bang, tumbled head over heels a few times and finally came to rest about twenty yards away, covered in wood mulch. Not one of my better landings, but as my legs felt like rubber and I was blissfully beyond the point of exhaustion I should probably be glad I hadn't broken my neck.

The aforementioned neck started screaming at me as I got slowly to my feet, but I fought down the pain and staggered towards the base where I'd seen the chopper land. I had literally been flying for hours, tailing the Chinook about ten miles back. I was hungry, tired, sore and had almost crashed somewhere over the Sierra Nevada mountains, and no, I'm not talking about sleeping.

I crested a low hill and leapt behind a tree as I spotted a series of low concrete buildings nestled in the crook of the valley, complete with barbed wire fence, sentry towers and extremely vigilant, extremely armed, sentries. That was just perfect, especially as I could see the chopper in the centre of the compound, gallingly, just being unloaded. I stalked back into the forest, found a tree and snuck into the canopy, finding a semi comfortable branch overlooking the base and settled in. As a general rule people, myself included, don't bother looking for anything hiding in trees or generally above eye level as you rarely expect things where you yourself can't go. But I've met military types, and most would be paranoid to be scanning everywhere, especially if they've just unloaded a girl with wings.

Speaking of which, I watch them unload Dee roughly from chopper, a burlap sack tied firmly over her head. It wasn't really doing much to stop her kicking, and judging from the number of soldiers that were limping this might not have first time she fought back. A soldier foolishly grabbed her by the arm and got a wing to the face that sent him flying, I winced in sympathy; you do not get near the wings of someone who spends six hours a day in the air, or any other limb as it happens.

The soldiers withdrew from Dee, enclosing her in a rough circle and she continued flailing blindly, desperately trying to connect with something. For a moment I went to join her, shifting into a low crouch and debating whether I could out fly bullets, then Lieutenant Parkinson stepped smartly behind Dee and cracked her over the head with a pistol butt. I winced again, chalking up another reason to feed him his own spleen as Dee crumpled, and sat back down.

It was infuriating; Dee was literally a stone's throw away but might as well have been on another planet, and as I still haven't gotten used to my new vision I was half convinced that she was lying about six feet away. I almost just took off after her as she was dragged into a building but forced myself to stay still. There were fifty yards of clear cut forest between me and the fence and the armed guards; not something a lone kid, who can't yet land properly, could deal with all on his own.

Actually, it was rather odd just how well defended the base was, after all, the world was supposed to be an uninhabited wasteland. Maybe they'd had the same brutal revelation I'd had.

I woke with a start as an engine roared to life and almost fell out of the tree.

Okay, so falling asleep while trying to keep watch was not very professional and judging from the fact the sun had set I'd been asleep for a few hours. In front of me the compound gates swung open, floodlights sweeping the ground along the broken road, probably searching for any ambushes, and a convoy raced out, bristling with guards and Lieutenant Parkinson driving a jeep at break neck speed at the head of the column. I really wished I had a gun.

The soft top trucks followed, one most likely contained Dee but there was no way to be sure and there was no way I would be getting any closer, these guys were acting like the enemy was already at the gates. There was a soft chink as the base sealed itself and I sighed, I was hungry, tired and desperately needed more information. Annoyingly the best place to solve all three was right in front of me and more hostile than Talon.

So let's sum up. Attacking was suicidal, there was no way they'd react well to me, not after meeting Lieutenant Parkinson, and sneaking in wasn't an option. Maybe if I were a better flyer, or fighter, or even knew some half decent telekinesis then I'd have a chance. But all I had was my wits...

And a good understanding of what they were thinking right now.

Now, if you are cut off from the rest of the world, what is the one thing that you'd greet with open arms?

A friendly outsider.

And that gave me an idea.

* * *

I clutched the jacket closer as I stumbled out of the forest and onto the road, the base in plain sight, almost tripping over a chunk of shattered asphalt. It was still disconcerting to be looting the dead but I hear supermarkets are fair game and I really needed a disguise. I hadn't particularly wanted to get rid of my old clothes, they were after all, a gift, but needs must and so I was now decked out in moth eaten jeans, or at least I hoped they were moth eaten, a brutalised T-shirt and a massively oversized denim jacket. All and all I looked like I was some scrawny kid dressed up in his dad's clothes, which coincidently, was exactly what I wanted look like.

A searchlight swung over me and I put up an arm to shield my eyes, visibly slumping and waved in a way that I hoped signalled exhaustion. I'm not sure how good my acting really was but when I suddenly found myself flat on my face with my ankle caught in a pothole and no memory of falling, it might not have been wholly acting.

"Its okay boy," I heard a rough voice say somewhere above me, it put me in mind of Uncle Richard for some reason. "You're safe now."

_"Yeah. Safe,"_ I thought bitterly as I felt myself gently lifted off the ground, before letting myself drift into blessed unconsciousness.

* * *

The next day was chaotic. Surprisingly the people on the base were friendly, fed me, let me sleep in a spare bunk, and even swallowed the line about the coat being my late father's so I wouldn't be taking it off. In it own strange way it was very welcoming. I'd grown up in the same atmosphere of military precision blended with the air of long friendship, and it was a far cry from the village's barely palpable suspicion. Not to mention for once, in what seemed like a very long time, I was being seen as an equal rather than just a freak.

That's not to say they weren't curious about where I'd come from, but I'm not much of a liar so I just gave the sketchy details I'd learned from Dee and feigned distress. All in all in went down surprisingly well, especially when I dropped hints about monsters roving the wastes which got almost unilateral groans. They'd seen them too apparently, and almost all had lost a friend in scattered attacks. How true it was I do not know, but they certainly felt as if they were under siege by a shadowy and gruesome foe that went around picking off isolated bunkers of humanity. My family hadn't been the only ones to fall victim to the Erasers' hunger it seemed.

I did learn some important information about Dee though; admittedly it was hard to go more than ten yards without overhearing a conversation about the mysterious winged girl and "that ass" Lieutenant Parkinson. It was nice to see the human race still had taste, though more disturbing was just how many people were drawing a link between the winged people and the Erasers. I didn't really get involved in those conversations, they made my wing joints ache.

Anyway, in summary, no one knew anything concrete about the world, and Dee had been taken to the main base where I would be taken for processing into the new society on the next supply convoy, which was a few days away. It was a painfully long time to wait but I forced myself, I had a plan and I was in too deep to change it now, though it didn't salve my worry that I had just lifted it straight out of a book.

In the mean whilst I passed the time practicing my escape plan and learning interesting facts about the world of tomorrow. For example, Lieutenant Parkinson, the least diplomatic man alive, was given the job of scouting out other enclaves because no one actually expected him to find anything. This was actually rather disturbing as at the same time I learned that the total number of survivors for the entire state of California was about ten thousand and the rest of the continent hadn't been much better. It is apparently extremely bad to mix heavy fallout and westerly winds.

Disturbingly soon I was being shipped off to the main base and going for 'processing' which sounded like a really scary thing but it was basically an interview that boiled down to:

"Who are you?"

"Where did you come from?"

"What can you do?"

"When can you start?"

I mentioned cooking somewhere along the line, and immediately got thrown into the kitchen to help the head chef, a tall athletic looking man called Donald or at least something like that. At best, he didn't exactly look like he belonged in a kitchen, at worst I would say he wasn't the kind of person I'd let hold knifes. All in all he looked like a drill sergeant and would be roaring orders at me any second, but then he turned ten year old tinned food into something that was beyond edible and actually tasted good and in my world that made him the greatest chef who had ever lived.

It wasn't long until the meals started flying out and I spied a tray left on one side, a casual question confirmed it was Dee's which I probably should have guessed as it held about twice as much as we were feeding the commandos. That's another thing I still haven't really gotten used to yet, our metabolism, fortunately if you're pretending that you were near starvation no one bats an eye at you over eating.

My gracious offer to take it to the prisoner was gladly accepted by the squaddie who just wanted his lunch. After getting lost twice, the base being several orders of magnitude large than my bunker and apparently one of the nuclear command centres, I found myself riding an elevator into the bowels of the complex.

I gripped the tray tighter as I walked down a corridor; finally coming to unremarkable door simply marked 'detention' and knocked.

"Come in," a bored sounding voice said simply and I slunk inside, casting my eyes around the room. It was unsurprisingly plain; concrete walls, a row of five metal doors and a single guard sitting slumped in a camp chair at the end of the short hall, drumming her fingers on her gun.

"Lunch for the prisoner," I said quickly as an explanation, gesturing to the tray.

"No lunch for me then?" she asked jokingly, rolling her eyes. "Bloody Jonas."

"Err, sorry," I muttered weakly. I didn't actually know how to respond to that, I hadn't really considered the possibility of guards being friendly.

"Hey, I don't recognise you," she said conversationally, standing up and rattling a set of keys off of her belt. "You one of the new ones?"

"That's me," I said more brightly, with rather forced enthusiasm. "Fresh off the wastes."

"And I suppose you're trying to catch a glimpse of our most prestigious prisoner," she continued with a grin, unlocking the door. "Well believe me; she's dead boring once you get over the wings. Hasn't said three consecutive words and we have to keep her locked down or else people get hurt, and not just because she hit them."

Yep, that sounded like Dee.

"Well, here you go." The door swung open and I hurried inside, stumbling slightly and almost dropping the tray. Dee's head whipped round, and even though she still had a bag over her head, I hadn't a shadow of a doubt over her knowing exactly where we were. She was looking in a sorry state though, bedraggled, chained to a bedpost, her hands cuffed together and legs shackled. I had this sudden urge to punch the guard in the face but I fought it down, and tried to replace it with pride over Dee getting a bunch of hardened military buffs to lock her down so tightly.

"Are you expecting her to eat bound up like that?" I asked disbelievingly, a little harshly but not suspiciously so, or at least the guard didn't react too badly.

"Just spoon feed her," she said dismissively, "I'll take the hood off though."

"Thanks," I said with maybe a hint of sarcasm. The guard cocked her gun, edged forwards, grabbed the very tip of the bag and tore it off, practically leaping backwards and slamming the gun against her shoulder.

I knelt down in front of Dee, placing the tray gently on the floor. I looked up at her. She looked down at me with steely, unblinking eyes. For a brief moment a doubt flickered across my mind; here I was dressed in humanity's finest, what if she didn't see me as a saviour, but a turncoat? What if I was about to receive a telekinetic boot to the head?

"Well," she began slowly. "You sure took your time."


	27. It’s Never Easy

It's Never Easy – Dee

"Sorry," Michael muttered, ducking his eyes. "The kitchen was frantic."

I glanced around at the guard, who tightened her grip on her rifle and then looked back at Michael, making the faintest click with my tongue, desperately trying to ask the ultimate question. Was this just a social visit or was there actually a plan in the works?

He winked slowly, which neatly failed to answer my question and lifted a spoonful of food. I just rolled my eyes and then watched in surprise as he fumbled the spoon and let it clatter to the ground next to my foot.

There was dead silence for a moment, broken by Michael saying. "Oops." And bending over to retrieve the utensil.

"Watch her," the guard warned anxiously as he got within kicking distance and I rolled my eyes again. I wasn't actually talking to the guards on general principal, but this one was getting on my nerves, though the sheer paranoia of some of them was strangely gratifying.

Michael clumsily retrieved the spoon, brushing his hand against my manacles as he did so and there was the faintest of clicks. I froze instantly, praying that the guard hadn't heard. There was no way she hadn't noticed something was up, but maybe she would put me tensing down to my being touched. A second click came as he brushed against my cuffs and a third quickly after as the chain linking me to the bed loosened. I flicked my wrist slightly to keep the shackles from falling and waited for a signal, heart racing.

"Distraction!" Michael yelled suddenly, throwing himself backwards and I almost leapt out of my skin, changing it into a leap that sent me flying off the bed and smashing into the opposite wall, any moment expecting the ugly bark of the rifle. I hurled a telekinetic blast into the concrete which shattered like glass and spun me like a top, hurling me towards the guard who I hit like a tonne of bricks, slamming her against the opposite wall and making damn sure she hit her head.

The gun clattered to the floor next to me a moment later and I winced, but it thankfully failed to go off. I heaved a sigh of relief. The safety had still been on.

"Dee!" I Michael cried, rushing over. "You okay?"

"Distraction?" I asked in giddy disbelief, grinning like a lunatic as the adrenalin hit.

"I couldn't think of anything else to say," he explained sheepishly, pulling me to my feet and I just laughed weakly.

"Well, thanks for the rescue anyway," I said, sticking my head out of the door and straining to hear any sounds of alarm, luckily we didn't seem to have been noticed. "What's the plan?"

"Run for it," he said with a shrug as I stepped into the little anteroom of the prison and stretched.

"Yeah, but where's our back up?" I continued, sighing in relief. You have no idea how stiff being cooped up like that for days on end makes you. "I mean, I was half expecting Jaz just to come bursting through the wall."

"Um, actually," he began, even uncomfortably than before, ducking under my outstretched wing. "It's… just, me."

"Sorry, what…" I began, but then stalled, the gears whirring in my head.

"You came here on your own!" I roared, rounding on him in fury and making him quail backwards. "Does anyone even know we're here?"

He shook his head a tiny amount.

"Good grief Michael!" I snarled in fury. "I was taking comfort that at least you escaped and could get help! But you just came gallivanting after didn't you? Did you even have a plan?"

"I was afraid of losing you," he murmured, failing to meet my eyes. "And I do have a plan. I've been working on it for days."

"I've been here for days," I growled, totally exasperated, covering my eyes with my hand. "You could have gone back and told someone."

"I didn't think," he admitted to his shoes.

"Obviously," I growled. "If you'd been thinking…" I caught myself.

"Aw damn it, I'm turning into Jaz," I realised suddenly and turned to actually look at Michael who busy looking morose.

I sighed. Then put my arm around his shoulder. Then went the whole way and embraced him.

"Sorry Michael," I said, simply. "I am really, really glad that you saved me."

"I'm glad I saved you too," he admitted, beaming.

"Okay then," I said, pulling away and clapping my hands. "Let's get out of here."

I waltzed over to the door, wrenched it open and saw an annoyingly smug face dressed in camouflage for the briefest moment before something smashed into my chin and sent me flying. The floor was a lot harder than I remembered and I hit with a bang, skidding along the ground and coming to rest against Michael's feet.

"Ah," Michael muttered to himself, as I lay there groaning. "That would be Jonas then."

I sat up slowly, clasping my head and wondering how to tell if you've fractured your skull, I just took the fact I couldn't feel my brain as a good thing. Though, as the man who'd hit me was standing in the doorway with his gun trained on us and Michael had his hands up, I had to assume that was not such a good thing.

"Now don't either of you move," he snarled, which wasn't exactly going to be a problem, not unless someone really had installed a strobe light to make the lights dance.

"Plan?" Michael muttered, as Jonas growled into his radio.

"You're not the one with concussion," I muttered back.

He glanced around the room, a pained look on his face. "Wait," he concluded, begrudgingly.

"Good plan."

Within a few minutes half a dozen more guards had arrived, all with guns and Michael and I had our hands cuffed behind our backs before being lead out of the room.

"So, what _is_ the plan?" Michael asked as we were frogmarched down the corridor.

"I thought it was your turn," I whispered back as a guard jabbed me in the back. I shot a glower back over my shoulder at him; they hadn't been best pleased about me knocking out the other guard apparently.

"No, my plan was waiting," he pointed out. "Now it's your go."

"Fine," I snapped, rolling my eyes as we marched into an elevator, our escort pilling in after us. I think we were being taken to their leader, I hadn't really been listening though, my head was still ringing.

"Up. Over. Three," I screeched under my breath.

Funny thing about being isolated from humanity for ten years and not technically being human; you start developing new words. I mentioned that we're not strictly speaking English, so basically we've replaced some short words that may need to be yelled as instructions over a kilometre to stop someone hitting a tree to short, easily screamed syllables. Up for example is 'Kee!', down 'Kaa!' and the rest variations on the theme.

This probably doesn't seem relevant but it's nice to know, as it meant that the guards didn't have the faintest idea what hit them.

"Three!" I roared as the doors began to slide shut and I kicked down with all my might, hurling myself up and forwards, throwing my weight backwards so I firstly wouldn't hit the ceiling and secondly could get a firm footing on the wall. A telekinetic blast sent me hurtling backwards over the heads of the guards, out through the closing doors and landing heavily on the floor of the miraculously empty corridor. Then Michael landed on me.

I'd rolled him off me and leapt to my feet just in time to see the doors slide shut in front of the irate looking guards, one of which had almost, but not quite, gotten his arm in the door in time. The angry yell probably alerted someone though so I resisted the urge to yell, _"so long suckers!"_

"Come on, move!" I barked at Michael, who was struggling to get to his feet, and sprinted down the corridors looking for an exit sign.

"I'm cuffed!" he snapped back as I burst though a door and started taking the stairs four at a time.

"Well, so am I!" I panted, after we reached the top, which was about three stories, and I pressed myself against the wall next to the door, Michael following suit.

"What…?" he began but I hissed him quiet.

"Wait," I whispered.

There was a yell of "Make sure they don't take the stairs!" from beyond the door and hurried footsteps, then the door slammed open, pinning Michael and I behind it. I grabbed the tip of the door to stop it closing and waited for a tense moment, praying that the pair of soldiers going thundering down the stairs were unobservant enough not to notice Michael's arm sticking out. The rumble of boots reached second flight and I slipped round the door, murmuring.

"Come on," to Michael. The corridor was again empty and I resisted the urge to do a happy dance, for once my plan had actually worked. That never happens.

"Which way?" I asked hurriedly.

"Um…" he began. "Right." And we set off at a run.

"It's a maintenance passage," he explained over his shoulder, after about a hundred yards. "I was scouting around and it popped up on an evacuation plan."

"That's great," I cut in. "But look where you're going."

Just as the words left my mouth a soldier rounded the corner in front of us and Michael ran straight into his waiting arms.

"What the…?" he began, befuddled, grabbing Michael's shoulders, noticing the cuffs, the breathlessness and far too late the ballistic Dee as I hurled myself forwards, rolling over in mid air and slamming my heels into his shoulders. He went over like a tonne of bricks and just like the last time I tried a trick like that, I went soaring over him, ricocheting off the ceiling, wall and finally landed in a heap on top of Michael.

There was yet another surprised yell from right beside me and I was on my feet and legging it back down the corridor, somehow managing to drag Michael with me only using my elbows. Only when we were safely away did I stop to look round to see two more soldiers following us and a third helping their downed comrade.

"We really needed to go that way," Michael panted, as we hung a random right at an intersection.

"We just can't get a break, can we?" I exclaimed angrily. "Okay. We need to lose these cuffs."

"In here," he gasped, skidding to a halt in front of a door marked 'C-Store' and we barged our way into the thankfully empty room. "We need to find something sharp," he continued hurriedly as we rushed past rows of empty shelves. "And it has to be tougher than steel."

"Can't you just use your unlocking thingy?" I snapped.

"I can't see the lock," he countered, panicking just slightly. "I haven't done any when I couldn't see the lock."

"Do mine then!" I exclaimed, rattling the chains in his direction. "I'll get yours."

"You can undo locks?" he asked in surprise, as I presented the cuffs to him and I finally felt them fall away. I had been chained far too much lately.

"Not as such," I admitted, yanking his chain towards me and taking a short loop in my fist. "I'll improvise though." I concentrated for a moment, feeling a shiver run over me as I poured far too much energy into the links. Suddenly there was an ear-splitting bang and the links exploded, firing shrapnel into the darkness of the room and Michael hissed in pain as a line of red was traced across his wrist.

"Very subtle," he growled.

"Subtle's my middle name," I said with a perfectly straight face, forcing myself not to wince as my headache returned with a vengeance. Tricks like that can really take it out of you. "Now let's go, someone will have heard that."

On queue the door burst open and a guard lunged in, brandishing a weapon, roaring. "Nobody move!" I however was already sprinting towards him and threw myself forwards yet again, arms wide and slamming into his stomach sending him flying, the gun firing randomly into the ceiling. He hit the ground hard and I skittered over him, into the corridor, only to find several nasty looking assault rifles pointed at me.

"Ah," I began slowly, raising my hands and smiling at the soldiers, just as Michael stepped out into the corridor, captured gun in hand and a scowl on his face.

"I assure you," he said levelly. "This time it is loaded." He motioned me to get up and we began backing away, only pausing as I palmed a flash bang off the guard's belt.

"You're not getting away," one of the soldiers said suddenly. "Surrender now, and no one has to get hurt."

"Tell it to my concussion," I shot back, as we reached an intersection and then gleefully pulled the pin. We sprinted away as the blast shook the walls, both grinning like loons."

"What are you so happy about?" I asked as we took another random turn.

"Partly delayed adrenaline," he admitted. "Mostly though, it's because there really aren't any bullets in this thing." He rolled his eyes as he threw the gun away and I chuckled to myself.

"Which way then?" I asked after a moment and another blind bend.

"Don't know," he confessed brightly, skidding to a stop and I almost ran into the back of him. "The cargo dock is that way," he said, gesturing at a sign on the next crossroads. "That's probably a good bet."

"They'll be expecting that though," I pointed out as we started running again.

"Can you find another way out?" he countered.

"Cargo dock it is."

An alarm started wailing and suddenly the entire place seemed to come alive with people. We ducked round a man who came bursting out a side door, thundering footsteps could be heard behind us and I risked a look back to see a ruffled and irate looking guard hot on our heels, his own friends not far behind him, and everywhere there were yells and confused voices.

We rushed out into a main corridor which was already beginning to fill with random bystanders and we rammed our way through them, sending people flying as I tripped anyone who got within kicking range.

"Stop them!" a guard roared, as they found their way blocked by a confused and angry crowd and a man with arms the size of tree trunks lunged at me. A swift elbow to the nose sent him reeling but the mob was beginning to notice us and we were still a long way from the edge. It was time for something drastic.

I slammed my foot into the ground, putting every ounce of telekinetic force behind the blow and the concrete shattered with a terrifying blow. The recoil almost crushed my leg along with floor and I desperately tried to channel all that energy back into a blazing aura around myself which I think just looked like a crimson wash.

"Move!" I bellowed to the flabbergasted crowds and for a moment they did, parting just long enough for us to reach the cargo dock.

The shakes hit me as we vaulted over the safety rail onto the road between the raised piers. There is no way you can do a trick like that without some key laws of physics taking offence and my chest was burning as my body temperature dropped to dangerously low levels. I staggered as we landed, my legs almost giving way under me but Michael grabbed my arm and physically dragged me along, screaming.

"Dee! Move!" Which I seemed strangely detached from. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew that I was experiencing the rough equivalent of hypothermia, but much more pressing was the need to lie down and rest.

A gun shot shook me out of my reprieve, sparking off the ground in front of us and Michael yelled something incoherent, throwing off his jacket as he did so. My muscles were burning but I could literally feel the heat flowing back through me, coupled with exhaustion still clinging to my joints. We burst out into the sun and I spread my wings wide, catching the breeze beneath them for the first time in far too long.

Only to screech to a stop in front of a dozen heavily armed men, standing in a semi-circle, Lieutenant Parkinson standing front and centre with a grin on his face.

I closed my wings, scowling at him.

We had been so close too.

"Well," he asked, with that stupid self righteous grin of his, which somehow he was still managing to do with a black eye. "Are we going to come quietly?"

Next to me Michael was growling in frustration, suddenly though the growl, _shifted gear?_ I cocked my head slightly, that was definitely an engine, and it was closing fast.

"Ye…" Michael began begrudgingly, but I cut him off.

"What do you think?" I asked, emulating the smug grin and dropping into a defensive stance. Every gun came up. I'm really impressed with these peoples' paranoia.

"You have until the count of three to surrender," he snarled. "One."

"One," I echoed brightly.

"Dee," Michael muttered, but I held up a hand to silence him.

"Two," he continued, bringing his own pistol up.

"Two." The roar was getting palpable but I was apparently doing a good distraction, not even Michael had noticed it. Though, it would be a real down if it turned out to be one of theirs.

"Three," Lieutenant Parkinson finished grimly but suddenly his eyes widened at something behind us, just as the roar became momentarily overwhelming and abruptly changed to the high pitched whine of a vehicle suddenly not being attached to the ground.

"Down!" I screamed, grabbing Michael by the shoulder and throwing him into the dirt before diving after him just as a massive motorcycle landed with a crash in front of us, skidding across the shattered asphalt and the occupant threw him/herself clear and went flying, right towards Lieutenant Parkinson. It was kind of hard to tell just what they were as they were covered head to toe in cloth that could only be said to be sand coloured. At a guess I would have said that they were fricking huge, easily seven foot tall and as 'it' slammed into Lieutenant Parkinson and sent him soaring at least ten feet through the air, I would have also hazarded wickedly strong.

One soldier that was fast enough to bring his gun to bear on 'it' was suddenly floored as a winged woman landed hard on his shoulders, sending him crashing to the ground and she landed neatly next to him, flicking a tawny wing tip into the throat of a second. I do only mention the wing colour though, as no one in the village actually has tawny wings.

That of course added up to only one thing. More outsiders. Great, I was still dealing with the last one.

"Well?" I winged woman roared at us, stepping up to the next soldier and simply flooring him with a right hook. "What are you waiting for? A signed invitation?"

And with that Michael and I scrambled to our feet and were legging it along the road before anyone could blink, ignoring still more angry cries coming from behind us. I did risk a look over one shoulder to see even more soldiers rushing out of the loading dock, but I was particularly surprised by the fact that there was at least a forty foot drop from the lip of the hill above the bunker to the ground which I think safely put 'it' out of the human category.

"Kit, we're going!" the winged woman yelled, sweeping another soldier off his feet, and we sprinted past Lieutenant Parkinson who was still away with the fairies. Michael had finally torn open the back of his shirt and was flexing his own wing and I looked back to see 'Kit', duck a swung rifle and send the guy flying with an open handed slap. Then she was back on the bike faster that I would have thought possible and already accelerating towards us. The winged woman was also off like a shot, leaping straight into the air, and not a moment to soon as the second wave of soldiers were lining up at the cargo bay, bringing their weapons to bear. Some old guy seemed to be yelling at them though, and they weren't actually firing which was good. But still, that didn't matter though because a moment later Michael and I were in the air and racing away.

Long gone.


End file.
